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Hppletons' Ibomc IRcabing Booths 

EDITED BY 

WILLIAM T. HARRIS, A. M., LL. D. 

UNITED STATES COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION 


DIVISION III 

Biography^ etc.. 




APPLETONS' HOME READING BOOKS 


THE STORY 
OF OLIVER TWIST 

BY CHARLES DICKENS 


CONDENSED FOR HOME 
AND SCHOOL READING 


BY 

ELLA BOYCE KIRK 




NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
1897 


Copyright, 1897, 

By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 


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mTEODUCTION TO THE HOME KEADIHG 
BOOK SEEIES BY THE EDITOE. 


The new education takes two important direc- 
tions— one of these is toward original observation, 
requiring the pupil to test and verify what is taught 
him at school by his own experiments. The infor- 
mation that he learns from books or hears from his 
teacher’s lips must be assimilated by incorporating it 
with his own experience. 

The other direction pointed out by the new edu- 
cation is systematic home reading. It forms a part of 
school extension of all kinds. The so-called “ Univer- 
sity Extension ” that originated at Cambridge and Ox- 
ford has as its chief feature the aid of home reading by 
lectures and round-table discussions, led or conducted 
by experts who also lay out the course of reading. 
The Chautauquan movement in this country prescribes 
a series of excellent books and furnishes for a goodly 
number of its readers annual courses of lectures. The 
teachers’ reading circles that exist in many States pre- 
scribe the books to be read, and publish some analysis, 
commentary, or catechism to aid the members. 

Home reading, it seems, furnishes the essential 
basis of this great movement to extend education 


VI 


EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION. 


beyond tbe school and to make self-culture a habit 
of life. 

Looking more carefully at the difference between 
the two directions of the new education we can see 
what each accomplishes. There is first an effort to 
train the original powers of the individual and make 
him self -active, quick at observation, and free in his 
thinking. Next, the new education endeavors, by the 
reading of books and the study of the wisdom of the 
race, to make the child or youth a participator in the 
results of experience of all mankind. 

These two movements may be made antagonistic 
by poor teaching. The book knowledge, containing as 
it does the precious lesson of human experience, may 
be so taught as to bring with it only dead rules of 
conduct, only dead scraps of information, and no 
stimulant to original thinking. Its contents may be 
memorized without being understood. On the other 
hand, the self-activity of the child may be stimulated 
at the expense of his social well-being — his originality 
may be cultivated at the expense of his rationality. 
If he is taught persistently to have his own way, to 
trust only his own senses, to cling to his own opinions 
heedless of the experience of his fellows, he is pre- 
paring for an unsuccessful, misanthropic career, and 
is likely enough to end his life in a madhouse. 

It is admitted that a too exclusive study of the 
knowledge found in books, the knowledge which is 
aggregated from the experience and thought of other 
people, may result in loading the mind of the pupil 
with material which he can not use to advantage. 


EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION. 


Vll 


Some minds are so full of lumber that there is no 
space left to set up a workshop. The necessity of 
uniting both of these directions of intellectual activity 
in the schools is therefore obvious, but we must not, 
in this place, fall into the error of supposing that it is 
the oral instruction in school and the personal influ- 
ence of the teacher alone that excites the pupil to ac- 
tivity. Book instruction is not always dry and theo- 
retical. The very persons who declaim against the 
- book, and praise in such strong terms the self -activity 
of the pupil and original research, are mostly persons 
who have received their practical impulse from read- 
ing the writings of educational reformers. Yery few 
persons have received an impulse from personal con- 
tact with inspiring teachers compared with the num- 
ber that have received an impulse from such books as 
Herbert Spencer’s Treatise on Education, Rousseau’s 
Emile, Pestalozzi’s Leonard and Gertrude, Francis 
W. Parker’s Talks about Teaching, G. Stanley 
Hall’s Pedagogical Seminary. Think in this connec- 
tion, too, of the impulse to observation in natural sci- 
ence produced by such books as those of Hugh Miller, 
Faraday, Tjmdall, Huxley, Agassiz, and Darwin. 

The new scientiflc book is different from the old. 
The old style book of science gave dead results where 
the new one gives not only the results, but a minute 
account of the method employed in reaching those re- 
sults. An insight into the method employed in dis- 
covery trains the reader into a naturalist, an historian, 
a sociologist. The books of the writers above named 
have done more to stimulate original research on the 


viii 


EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION. 


part of their readers than all other influences com- 
bined. 

It is therefore much more a matter of importance 
to get the right kind of book than to get a living 
teacher. The book which teaches results, and at the 
same time gives in an intelligible manner the steps of 
discovery and the methods employed, is a book 
which will stimulate the student to repeat the ex- 
periments described and get beyond these into flelds 
of original research himself. Every one remem- 
bers the published lectures of Faraday on chemistry, 
which exercised a wide influence in changing the style 
of books on natural science, causing them to deal 
with method more than results, and thus to train 
the reader’s power of conducting original research. 
Eobinson Crusoe for nearly two hundred years has 
stimulated adventure and prompted young men to 
resort to the border lands of civilization. A library 
of home reading should contain books that stimulate 
to self -activity and arouse the spirit of inquiry. The 
books should treat of methods of discovery and evo- 
lution. All nature is unifled by the discovery of 
the law of evolution. Each and every being in the 
world is now explained by the process of development 
to which it belongs. Every fact now throws light on 
all the others by illustrating the process of growth in 
which each has its end and aim. 

The Home Reading Books are to be classed as 
follows : 

First Division, Natural history, including popular 
scientiflc treatises on plants and animals, and also de- 


EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION. 


IX 


scriptions of geographical localities. The branch of 
study in the district school course which corresponds 
to this is geography. Travels and sojourns in distant 
lands; special writings which treat of this or that 
animal or plant, or family of animals or plants ; any- 
thing tliat relates to organic nature or to meteorol- 
ogy, or descriptive astronomy may be placed in this 
class. 

Second Division, Whatever relates to physics or 
natural philosophy, to the statics or dynamics of air or 
water or hght or electricity, or to tlie properties of 
matter ; whatever relates to chemistry, either organic 
or inorganic — books on these subjects belong to the 
class that relates to what is inorganic. Even the so- 
called organic chemistry relates to the analysis of 
organic bodies into their inorganic compounds. 

Third Division, History and biography and etli- 
nology. Books relating to the lives of individuals, and 
especially to the social life of the nation, and to the 
collisions of nations in war, as well as to the aid that 
one gives to another through commerce in times of 
peace ; books on ethnology relating to the manners 
and customs of savage or civihzed peoples ; books on 
the primitive manners and customs which belong to 
the earliest human beings — books on these subjects be- 
long to the third class, relating particularly to the hu- 
man will, not merely the individual will but the social 
will, the will of the tribe or nation ; and to this third 
class belong also books on ethics and morals, and on 
forms of government and laws, and what is included 
under the term civics or the duties of citizenship. 


X 


EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION. 


Fourth Division, The fourth class of books in- 
cludes more especially literature and works that make 
known the beautiful in such departments as sculpture, 
painting, architecture and music. Literature and art 
show human nature in the form of feelings, emotions, 
and aspirations, and they show how these feelings 
lead over to deeds and to clear thoughts. This de- 
partment of books is perhaps more important than 
any other in our home reading, inasmuch as it teaches 
a knowledge of human nature and enables us to un- 
derstand the motives that lead our fellow-men to 
action. 

To each book is added an analysis in order to aid 
the reader in separating the essential points from the 
unessential, and give each its proper share of atten- 
tion. 

W. T. Harris. 

Washington, D. C., November 16, 1896, 


PKEFACE. 


As an educator for many years, it lias seemed to 
me a duty to make an effort to place before children 
in the homes and in the schools a class of books the 
reading of which is sure not only to give pleasure but 
to educate as well. 

It has occurred to me that if some of the master- 
pieces of our language were condensed, stripped of 
all words, however beautiful, not necessary for the 
plot, and confined as closely as possible to the action, 
that many now pleased with the ordinary story might 
be gradually led to acquire a taste for the best liter- 
ature. 

I have therefore tried to present one of Dickens’s 
most popular stories as nearly as possible in the form 
(judging from his Child’s History of England) that 
he would have put it if he had written it for young 
readers. I have used his language, I have not pre- 
sumed to change or modify his expression, but every- 
thing that a child would be likely to skip has been 
elided. The action is thus accelerated to suit the 
most impatient reader. 

By this means the story of Oliver Twist is told in 
xi 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


xii 

the dramatic manner that any observer of children 
must know is most attractive to them. 

The virtue and innocence of Oliver, unshaken and 
untarnished in scenes of degradation and crime, his 
patience under unmerited suffering, and his final tri- 
umph over his persecutors will impress a moral upon 
many young readers, who, in the abstract, will read 
and appreciate it, but who might be deterred from 
reading it in its original lengthy and superior form. 


Ella Boyce Kirk. 


AN ANALYSIS OF THE STOEY OF 
OLIVEE TWIST. 


What event in Oliver’s life divides its misery from its happi- 
ness f 

In what two towns does he suffer the misery ? 

How, even after he is happy with his friends, is it plotted to 
darken his life ? 

How is the plot defeated ? 

These questions lead us to the naming of four periods in Oli- 
ver’s life : the Struggle for Existence, the Temptation, the Plot, the 
Deliverance, 

I. The Struggle for Existence. 

What three sets of persecutors get power over Oliver during 
his life in his native town ^ 

What are the miseries he endures under the first of these? 

Why is his very life in danger during these nine years ? 

How had he fallen to Mrs. Mann’s care ? 

For what reason did his second set of persecutors now take 
him in hand ? 

Describe the chief figure among them. 

What act of Oliver’s determines them to rid themselves of the 
boy? 

How does he narrowly escape falling into even worse hands ? 

How does he finally come into relations with Mr. Sowerberry ? 

In what respect is his residence with the undertaker a better- 
ing of his condition ? 

What persecutions and discomforts does he have to undergo ? 
xiii 


XIV 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Who is his chief persecutor ? 

How does his persecutor finally go too far ? 

What disturbance grows from this, and how is Oliver punished ? 

Why does this change him from shrinking patience to the de- 
termination to rid himself of these persecutors'? 

How does he rid himself of them and thus enter on his new 
life of temptation ? 

Describe Noah Claypole. 

Who was his only friend during all these years ? 

Why should we call these years the Struggle for Existence ? 

What chapters do they cover? 

II. The Temptation. 

What chance acquaintance leads him into this life of severe 
temptation f 

How did Oliver’s condition force him to accept what this ac- 
quaintance did ? 

Describe this boy. 

What happy interval of only a few weeks divides these months 
of temptation into two parts ? 

What circle of acquaintances are introduced to Oliver the first 
day in London ? 

Describe his chief tempter during this sad time. 

What does this tempter try to do with Oliver ? 

How do Dodger and Bates help in this ? 

For what purpose does he finally go out with the Dodger and 
Bates ? 

What mishap befalls him ? 

How does it prove a blessing in disguise ? 

What new experiences does Oliver have under Mr. Brownlow’s 
roof ? 

How do they strengthen the good in his character, and thus 
prepare it for further temptation ? 

Describe Mr. Grimwig. 

What is it that particularly arouses Mr. Brownlow’s interest in 
him? 

How does he just fail of securing a life of happiness and pro- 
tection at this time ? 


ANALYSIS OF THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST, xv 


How is he dragged from this happiness back again into his 
life of temptation ? 

What suspicious circumstances conspire to cast an evil name 
on the child, and thus to cut him off from the help of his only- 
friend ? 

What one of his old persecutors arrives to add to this ill fame ? 

How is Oliver’s life made more miserable after his return to 
Fagin’s ? 

What does Fagin still hope to do with him? 

What during all this time of temptation helps Oliver to do 
the right ? 

How does Fagin at last plan to break his sense of right and 
bring him to a life of crime ? 

What fear is added to make him do the wrong? 

Hoes all the terror and misery make Oliver willing to do wrong 
in order to escape from them ? 

How does this last temptation culminate in his deliverance 
from all his terrible past ? 

What provision of his father’s will made it the more impor- 
tant that he should overcome these temptations ? 

Why had Monks tried to augment the temptations? 

What chapters are included in this second period of Oliver’s 
life? 

III. The Plot. 


What circumstances at the entrance into this new life threaten 
Oliver most seriously? 

What would have been the result to Oliver if he had been 
handed over to the authorities ? 

Who, without any malicious intentions, subjects him to this 
danger ? 

What is his motive ? 

What about Oliver wins him deliverers from this first dan- 
ger ? 

Who is his chief deliverer ? 

Describe him? 

How does he deceive Giles and the officers? 

What plot against Oliver’s good name had been fostered in 
the poor house ever since his birth ? 


XVI 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


How is this passed into the hands of Mrs. Corney-Bumble ? 
What is the purpose of the third and worst plot by Fagin and 
Monks ? 

What motive has each for injuring Oliver 
Where, alone, do they cast a moment’s shadow over Oliver’s 
joy in his new life? 

How does this plot make the second one a part of itself ? 

What terrible engines of evil have they in their power? 

In the meantime, how has Oliver’s life been changed ? 

How does he manifest his love for his benefactors ? 

Why does he hope to see his old benefactor? 

Why is he disappointed in this ? 

How is one benefactor, like himself, hindered from her full 
happiness by the clouding of her good name ? 

How then is Fagin’s plot injuring Rose as well as Oliver? 
How, too, does this mar the happiness of all this circle of 
friends ? 

What new sorrow threatens to blight the joy Oliver has in his 
new-found friends ? 

How does his loving gratitude manifest itself during all this 
trying time? ’ 

How does this sorrow clear away ? 

Does Oliver have any knowledge of the plots against him ? 
What poor, degraded friend of Oliver discovers them ? 

How does she discover them? 

How had she been won to love Oliver? 

How had her life become sadder and more discontented in the 
meantime ? 

What chapters are devoted to these plots against Oliver’s hap- 
piness ? 

IV. The Deliverance. 

What act of Nancy’s sets this deliverance to work ? 

What one of his friends is the first to learn of the plots? 

Is Oliver himself intrusted with any of the secret? 

Has he any part in his own deliverance? 

How is he found ? 

What other friends are finally admitted ? 

What plan of action do they decide upon? 


ANALYSIS OF THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST, xvii 


Why do they not set the law to work immediately ? 

Why does Nancy fail to meet them ? 

How does Nancy answer the offers of assistance from her new- 
made friends ? 

Who among her old companions first notices the change in 
Nancy? 

What does he attribute it to, and how does he intend to use 
it ? 

What old acquaintance of Oliver does he use for gaining fuller 
information ? 

What does he find out ? 

What step does he now take that defeats himself and all his 
fellow-plotters and brings ruin on them all ? 

How does the public excitement this stirs aid Oliver’s friends 
in delivering his good name and fortune ? 

What does Mr. Brownlow find out from Monks ? 

. How is Oliver established in happiness and fortune thereby ? 

How is Rose’s past cleared at the same time? 

How are Oliver and Rose related to one another ? 

Who is Agnes ? 

To what friends does he chiefiy owe his deliverance ? 

What chapters tell of this deliverance ? 

How far was Oliver’s gaining of final happiness due to his own 
good character and how far to surroundings ? 


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I 




THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


CHAPTEE I. 

Among other public buildings in a certain town was 
a workhouse, and in this workhouse was born the child 
whose name is prefixed to the head of this chapter. 

For a long time it remained a matter of considerable 
doubt whether the child would survive to bear any name 
at all. 

Oliver and Nature fought out the point between 
them. The result was that, after a few struggles, Oliver 
breathed, sneezed, and proceeded to advertise to the 
inmates of the workhouse the fact of a new burden hav- 
ing been imposed upon the parish by setting up as loud 
a cr}^ as could reasonably have been expected from a 
male infant who had not been possessed of a voice for 
a much longer space of time than three minutes and a 
quarter. 

As Oliver gave this first proof of the free and prop- 
er action of his lungs, the patchwork coverlet, which 
was carelessly flung over the iron bedstead, rustled, the 
pale face of a young woman was raised feebly from the 
pillows, and a faint voice whispered the words, Let 
me see the child and die.^^ 

The doctor, who had been sitting with his face 
turned toward the fire, giving the palms of his hands a 
1 


2 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


warm and a rub alternately, rose as the young woman 
spoke, and, advancing to the bed^s head, said, with 
more kindness than might have been expected of him: 
Oh, you must not talk about dying yet.^^ 

Lor^ bless her dear heart, no,^^ interposed the 
nurse. Think what it is to be a mother, there’s a dear 
lamb, do.” 

The patient shook her head, and stretched out her 
hand toward the child. 

The doctor deposited it in her arms. She imprinted 
her cold white lips passionately on its forehead, passed 
her hands over her face, gazed wildly round, shuddered, 
fell back — and died. 

^‘^It’s all over, Mrs. Thingummy,” said the doctor 
at last. 

Ah, poor dear, so it is,” said the nurse. Poor 
dear! ” 

^^You needn’t mind sending up to me if the child 
cries, nurse,” said the doctor. It’s very likely it will 
be troublesome. Give it a little gruel if it is.” He put 
on his hat, and, pausing by the bedside on his way to 
the door, added, She was a good-looking girl, too; 
where did she come from ? ” 

She was brought here last night,” replied the old 
woman, by the overseer’s order. She was found lying 
in the street. She had walked some distance, for her 
shoes were worn to pieces; but where she came from, 
or where she was going to, nobody knows.” 

The medical gentleman walked away to dinner, and 
the nurse sat down on a low chair before the fire and 
proceeded to dress the infant. 

How he was enveloped in the old calico robes which 
had grown yellow in the same service, he was badged 
and ticketed, and fell into his place at once — a parish 
child, the orphan of a workhouse, the humble, half- 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


3 


starved drudge — to be cuffed and buffeted through the 
world, despised by all and pitied by none. 

Oliver cried lustily. If he could have known that 
he was an orphan, left to the tender mercies of church- 
wardens and overseers, perhaps he would have cried 
the louder. 


CHAPTEE II. 


Foe the next eight or ten months Oliver was the 
victim of a systematic course of treachery and decep- 
tion. He was brought np by hand. The hungry and 
destitute situation of the infant orphan was duly re- 
ported by the workhonse authorities to the parish au- 
thorities. The parish authorities inquired with dignity 
of the workhouse authorities whether there was no fe- 
male then domiciled in the house who was in a situ- 
ation to impart to Oliver Twist the consolation and 
nourishment of which he stood in need. The parish 
authorities resolved that Oliver should he farmed/^ or, 
in other words, that he should be dispatched to a branch 
workhouse some three miles off, where twenty or thirty 
other little orphans rolled about the floor all day, with- 
out the inconvenience of too much food or too much 
clothing, under the care of an elderly woman, who re- 
ceived the children at and for the consideration of seven- 
pence half-penny per small head per week. 

Oliver Twist^s ninth birthday found him a pale, thin 
child, somewhat short in stature, and decidedly small 
in circumference. But hTature or inheritance had im- 
planted a good sturdy spirit in Olivers breast. Ih_h_ad 
had plenty room to expand, thanks to the spare diet 
of the establishment, and perhaps to this circumstance 
may he attributed his having any ninth birthday at all. 
Be this as it may, however, it was his ninth birthday, 
and he was keeping it in the coal cellar with a select 
4 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


5 


party of two other young gentlemen, who, after sharing 
with him a sound thrashing, had been locked up for 
wickedly presuming to he hungry, when Mrs. Mann, 
the good lady of the house, was unexpectedly startled 
by the appearance of Mr. Bumble, the beadle, striving 
to undo the wicket of the garden gate. 

Goodness gracious! -Is that you, Mr. Bumble, 
sir?^^ said Mrs. Mann, thrusting her head out of the 
window. Susan, take Oliver and them two brats up- 
stairs and wash ^em directly.) My heart alive! Mr. 
Bumble, how glad I am to see you, surely! 

]^ow, Mr. Bumble was a fat man, and a quick-tem- 
pered one; so, instead of responding to this open-hearted 
greeting in a kindly spirit, he gave the little wicket 
a tremendous shake, and then bestowed upon it a kick 
which could have come from no leg but a headless. 

Lor’, only think,” said Mrs. Mann, running out 
— for the three boys had been removed by this time — 
only think of that! That I should have forgotten that 
the gate was bolted on the inside, on account of them 
dear children! Walk in, sir; walk in, pray, Mr. Bumble, 
do, sir.” 

Do you think this respectful or proper conduct, 
Mrs. Mann, to keep the parish officers awaiting at your 
garden gate, when they come here upon parish business 
connected with the parish orphans? Are you aweer, 
Mrs. Mann, that you are, as I may say, a parish dele-, 
gate, and a dependent? ” 

I’m sure, Mr. Bumble, that I was only a-telling 
one or two of the dear children as is so fond of you that 
it was you a-coming,” replied Mrs. Mann, with great 
humility. 

Mr. Bumble had a great idea of his oratorical powers 
and his importance. He had displayed the one and vin- 
dicated the other. He relaxed. 


6 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


well, Mrs. Mann/^ he replied, in a calmer 
tone; ^^it may be as yon say; it may be. Lead the way 
in, Mrs. Mann, for I come on business, and have some- 
thing to say.^^ 

Mrs. Mann ushered the beadle into a small parlor, 
placed a seat for him, and deposited his cocked hat and 
cane on the table before him. Mr. Bumble wiped from 
his forehead the perspiration caused by his walk, glanced 
complacently at the cocked hat, and smiled. 

And now about business,^^ said the beadle, taking 
out a leathern pocketbook. The child that was half 
baptized Oliver Twist is nine years old to-day.^^ 

Bless him! interposed Mrs. Mann, inflaming her 
left eye with the corner of her apron. 

And notwithstanding a offered reward of ten 
pound, which was afterward increased to twenty pound, 
we have never been able to discover the name and con- 
dition of his parents.^’ 

Mrs. Mann raised her hands in astonishment, but 
added, after a moment’s reflection, How comes he to 
have any name at all, then? ” 

The beadle drew himself up with great pride, and 
said, I inwented it.” 

^^You, Mr. Bumble?” 

I, Mrs. Mann. We name our orphans in alpha- 
betical order. The last was a S — Swubble, I named 
him. This was a T — Twist, I named him. The next 
one as comes will be Unwin, and the next Yilkins. I 
have got names ready made to the end of the alpha- 
bet, and all the way through it again when we come 
to Z.” 

Why, you are quite a literary character, sir! ” said 
Mrs. Mann. 

^^Well, w^ell,” said the beadle, perhaps I may be. 
Perhaps I may be, Mrs. Mann. Oliver being now too old 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


7 


to remain here, the board have determined to have him 
back into the house. I have come out myself to take 
him there. So let me see him at once.^^ 

ril fetch him directly/^ said Mrs. Mann, leaving 
the room for that purpose. Oliver, having had by this 
time as much of the outer coat of dirt which incrusted 
his face and hands removed as could be scrubbed off in 
one washing, was led into the room by his benevolent 
protectress. 

Make a bow to the gentleman, Oliver,^^ said Mrs. 
Mann. 

Oliver made a bow, which was divided between the 
beadle on the chair and the cocked hat on the table. 

Will you go along with me, Oliver? said Mr. 
Bumble, in a majestic voice. 

Oliver was about to say that he would go along with 
any body with great readiness when, glancing upward, 
he caught sight of Mrs. Mann, who had got behind the 
headless chair and was shaking her fist at him' with a 
furious countenance. He took the hint at once. 

^^Will she go with me?^^ inquired poor Oliver. 

Ho, she can%^^ replied Mr. Bumble. But she’ll 
come and see you sometimes.” 

This was no very great consolation to the child. 
Young as he was, however, he had ^ense enough to 
make a feint of feeling great regret at going away. 
It was no very difficult matter for the boy to call tears 
into his eyes. Hunger and recent ill usage are great 
assistants if you want to cry, and Oliver cried very natu- 
rally, indeed. Mrs. Mann gave him a thousand em- 
braces, and, what Oliver wanted a great deal more, a 
piece of bread and butter, lest he should seem too hun- 
gry when he got to the workhouse. With the slice of 
bread in his hand and the little brown cloth parish cap 
on his head, Oliver was then led away by Mr. Bumble 


8 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


from the wretched home where one kind word or look 
had never brightened the gloom of his infant years. 
And yet he hnrst into an agony of childish grief as the 
cottage gate closed after him. Wretched as were the 
little companions in misery he was leaving behind^ they 
were the only friends he had ever known, and a sense 
of his loneliness in the great wide world sank into the 
child^s heart for the first time. 

Mr. Bumble walked on with great strides; little Oli- 
ver, firmly grasping his gold-laced cuff, trotted beside 
him, inquiring at the end of every quarter of a mile 
whether they were nearly there.^^ To these ’ question- 
ings Mr. Bumble returned very brief and snappish re- 
plies. 

Oliver had not been within the walls of the work- 
house a quarter of an hour, and had scarcely finished 
devouring a second slice of bread, when Mr. Bumble, 
who had handed him over to the care of an old woman, 
returned, and, telling him it was a hoard night, in- 
formed him that the board had said he was to appear 
forthwith. 

'Not having a very clearly defined notion of what 
a live board was, Oliver was rather astounded by this 
intelligence, and was not quite certain whether he ought 
to laugh or cry. He had no time to think about the 
matter, however, for Mr. Bumble gave him a tap on the 
head with his cane to wake him up, and another on the 
hack to make him lively, and, bidding him follow, con- 
ducted him into a large whitewashed room, where eight 
or ten fat gentlemen were sitting round a table. At 
the top of the table, seated in an armchair rather 
higher than the rest, was a particularly fat gentleman 
with a very round red face. 

Bow to the hoard,^^ said Bumble. Oliver brushed 
away two or three tears that were lingering in his eyes. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


9 


and, seeing no board but the table, fortunately bowed 
to that. 

^^What^s your name, boy?^^ said the gentleman in 
the high chair. 

Oliver was frightened at the sight of so many gen- 
tlemen, which made him tremble, and the beadle gave 
him another tap behind, which made him cry. These 
two causes made him answer in a very low and hesitat- 
ing voice, whereupon a gentleman in a white waistcoat 
said he was a fool, which was a capital way of raising 
his spirits and putting him quite at his ease. 

Boy,^^ said the gentleman in the high chair, listen 
to me. You know you are an orphan, I suppose? 

What's that, sir?" inquired poor Oliver. 

The boy is a fool; I thought he was," said the 
gentleman in the white waistcoat. 

^‘^Hush! " said the gentleman who had spoken first. 

You know you've got no father or mother, and that 
you were brought up by the parish, don't you ? " 

Y^es, sir," replied Oliver, weeping bitterly. 

^‘^What are you crying for?" inquired the gentle- 
man in the white waistcoat. And to be sure it was very 
extraordinary. What could the boy be crying for? 

I hope you say your prayers every night," said an- 
other gentleman, in a gruff voice, and pray for the 
people who feed and take care of you, like a Christian." 

Yes, sir," stammered the boy. The gentleman 
who spoke last was unconsciously right. It would have 
been very like a Christian, and a marvelously good 
Christian, too, if Oliver had prayed for the people who 
had fed and took care of him. But he hadn't, because 
nobody had taught him. 

^^Well, you have come here to be educated and 
taught a useful trade," said the red-faced gentleman in 
the high chair. 


10 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


So youTl begin to pick oakum to-morrow morning 
at six o’clock/^ added the surly one in the white waist- 
coat. 

For the combination of both these blessings in the 
one simple process of picking oakum^, Oliver bowed low, 
by the direction of the beadle, and was then hurried 
away to a large ward, where, on a rough, hard bed, he 
sobbed himself to sleep. 

Poor Oliver! He little thought, as he lay sleeping 
in happy unconsciousness of all around him, that the 
board had at that very day arrived at a decision which 
would exercise the most material influence over all his 
future fortunes. But they had. And this was it: They 
established this rule. They had contracted with the 
waterworks to lay on an unlimited supply of water, and 
with a corn factor to supply small quantites of oatmeal, 
and issued three meals of thin gruel a day, with an onion 
twice a week and half a roll on Sundays. 

For the first six months after Oliver Twist was re- 
moved the system was in full operation. It was rather 
expensive at first, in consequence of the increase in the 
undertaker’s bill and the necessity of taking in the 
clothes of all the paupers, which fluttered loosely on 
their wasted, shrunken forms after a week or two’s 
gruel. But the number of workhouse inmates got thin 
as well as the paupers, and the board were in ecstasies. 

The room in which the boys were fed was a large 
stone hall, with a copper at one end, out of which the 
master, dressed in an apron for the purpose, and as- 
sisted by one or two women, ladled the gruel out at 
meal, times. Of this festive composition each boy had 
one porringer, and no more, except on occasions of great 
public rejoicings, when he had two ounces and a quar- 
ter of bread besides. The bowls never wanted washing. 
The boys polished them with their spoons till they 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


11 


shone again; and when they had performed this opera- 
tion (which never took very long, the spoons being 
nearly as large as the howls), they would sit staring at 
the copper with such eager eyes as if they could have 
devoured the very bricks of which it was composed, 
employing themselves meanwhile in sucking their fin- 
gers most assiduously, with the view of catching up any 
stray splashes of gruel that might have been cast there- 
on. Boys have generally excellent appetites. Oliver 
Twist and his companions suffered the tortures of slow 
starvation for three months; at last they got so vo- 
racious and wild with hunger that one boy who was tall 
for his age, and hadnff been used to that sort of thing 
(for his father had kept a small cookshop), hinted darkly 
to his companions that unless he had another basin of 
gruel per diem, he was afraid he might some night hap- 
pen to eat the boy who slept next to him, who happened 
to be a weakly youth of tender age. He had a wild, 
hungry eye, and they implicitly believed him. A coun- 
cil was held; lots were cast who should walk up to the 
master after supper that evening and ask for more, and 
it fell to Oliver Twist. 

The evening arrived; the boys took their places. 
The master, in his cook’s uniform, stationed himself at 
the copper, his pauper assistants ranged themselves be- 
hind him, the gruel was served out, and a long grace 
was said over a short commons. The gruel disappeared; 
the boys whispered to each other and winked at Oliver, 
while his next neighbors nudged him. Child as he was, 
he was desperate with hunger and reckless with mis- 
ery. He rose from the table, and, advancing to the 
master, basin and spoon in hand, said, somewhat alarmed 
at his own temerity: 

Please, sir, I want some more.” 

The master was a fat, healthy man, but he turned 


12 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


very pale. He gazed in stupefied astonishment on the 
small rebel for some seconds^ and then clung for sup- 
port to the copper. The assistants were paralyzed with 
wonder, the hoys with fear. 

What ? said the master at length, in a faint 
voice. 

Please, sir,^’ replied Oliver, I want some 
more.^^ 

The master aimed a blow^ at Oliver’s head with the 
ladle, pinioned his arms, and shrieked aloud for the 
beadle. 

The board were sitting in solemn conclave when 
Mr. Bumble rushed into the room in great excite- 
ment, and, addressing the gentleman in the high chair, 
said: 

Mr. Limhkins, I beg your pardon, sir, Oliver 
Twist has asked for more.” 

There was a general start. Horror was depicted in 
every countenance. 

For more! ” said Mr. Limhkins. Compose your- 
self, Bumble, and answer me distinctly. Do I under- 
stand that he asked for more after he had eaten the sup- 
per allotted? ” 

He did, sir,” replied Bumble. 

That hoy wdll be hung,” said the gentleman in 
the w^hite w^aistcoat. I know that hoy will he 
hung.” 

FTohody contradicted the gentleman’s opinion. Oli- 
ver was ordered into confinement, and a hill was next 
morning pasted on the outside of the gate offering a 
reward of five pounds to anybody who. would take Oliver 
Twist off the hands of the parish. In other words, five 
pounds and Oliver Twist were offered to any man or 
woman who wanted an apprentice to any trade, busi- 
ness, or calling. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


13 


I never was more convinced of anything in my 
life/^ said the gentleman in the white waistcoat, as he 
knocked at the gate and read the bill the next morn- 
ing — I never was more convinced of anything in my 
life than I am that that boy will come to be hung.^^ 


CHAPTEE III. 


For a week after the commission of the wicked and 
profane offense of asking for more Oliver remained a 
close prisoner in the dark and solitary room to which he 
had been sent by the wisdom and mercy of the hoard. 
He only cried bitterly all day, and, when the long, dis- 
mal night came on, spread his little hands before his 
eyes to shnt out the darkness, and, crouching in the 
corner, tried to sleep, ever and anon waking with a 
start and tremble, and drawing himself closer and closer 
to the wall, as if to feel even its cold, hard surface were 
a protection in the gloom and loneliness which sur- 
rounded him. 

For exercise, as it was nice cold weather, he was 
allowed to wash every morning under the pump, in a 
stone yard, in the presence of Mr. Bumble, who pre- 
vented his catching cold and caused a tingling sensa- 
tion to pervade his frame by repeated applications of 
the cane. As for society, he was carried every other 
day into the hall where the boys dined, and there soci- 
ably flogged as a public warning and example. 

It chanced one morning, while Olivers affairs were 
in this unpleasant state, that Mr. Gamfield, chimney 
sweep, went his way down the High Street, turning 
over in his mind his ways and means of paying certain 
arrears of rent for which his landlord had become rather 
pressing. Mr. Gamfield^s most' cheerful calculation of 
14 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


15 


funds could not raise them within full five pounds of 
the desired amount^ and in desperation he was cudgel- 
ing his brains and his donkey when, passing the work- 
house, his eye caught sight of the hill on the gate. 

^^Wo — o!^^ said Mr. Gamfield to the donkey. 

The donkey was in a state of profound abstraction, 
wondering probably whether he was destined to he re- 
galed with a cabbage stock or two when he had dis- 
posed of the two sacks of soot with which the cart was 
laden; so, without noticing the word of command, he 
jogged onward. 

Mr. Gamfield growled fiercely at the donkey, and, 
running after him, bestowed a blow on his head, which 
would inevitably have beaten in any skull hut a 
donkey^s. Then, catching hold of the bridle, he gave 
his jaw a sharp wrench by way of a gentle reminder 
hat he was not his own master, and by these means 
urned him round. He then gave him another blow on 
he head jast to stun him till he came hack again; then 
le walked up to the gate to read the hill. 

The gentleman with the white waistcoat was stand- 
ing at the gate with his hands behind him. Having 
witnessed the little dispute between Mr. Gamfield and 
the donkey, he smiled joyously when that person came 
up to read the hill, for he saw at once that Mr. Gam- 
field was exactly the sort of person Oliver Twist wanted. 
Mr. Gamfield smiled, too, as he read the notice, for five 
pounds was just the sum he had been wishing for; and 
as to the hoy who went with the money, Mr. Gamfield, 
knowing what the food of the workhouse was, well knew 
he would be a nice small pattern, just the thing for 
register stoves. So he spelled the hill through again 
from beginning to end, and then, touching his fur cap 
in token of humility, spoke to the gentleman in the 
white waistcoat. 

3 


16 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


This here boy, sir, wot the parish wants to ’pren- 
tis/^ said Mr. Gamfield. 

Ay, my man,’^ said the gentleman in the white 
waistcoat, what of him?^^ 

If the parish vonld like him to learn a light pleas- 
ant trade, in a good ^spectable chimbley-sweepin’ bis- 
ness,^^ said Mr. Gamfield, want’s a ’prentis, and I 
am ready to take him.” 

Walk in,” said the gentleman in the white waist- 
coat. Mr. Gamfield, having lingered behind to give 
the donkey another blow on the head and another 
wrench of the jaw, as a caution not to run away in his 
absence, followed the gentleman with the white waist- 
coat into the room where Oliver had first seen him. 

It’s a dirty trade,” said Mr. Limbkins, when Gam- 
field had again stated his wish. 

Young boys have been smothered in chimneys be- 
fore now,” said another gentleman. 

That’s acause they damped the straw afore they 
lit it in the chimbley to make ’em come down agin,'^ 
said Gamfield; that’s all smoke and no blaze, vereas 
smoke ain’t o’ no use at all in making a boy come down, 
for it only sinds him to sleep, and that’s wot he likes. 
Boys is wery obstinit and wery lazy, gen’lmen, and 
there’s nothink like a good hot blaze to make ’em come 
down vith a run. It’s humane, too, gen’lmen, acause, 
even if they’ve stuck in the chimbley, roasting their 
feet makes ’em struggle to hextricate theirselves.” 

The gentleman in the white waistcoat appeared very 
much amused by this explanation, but his mirth was 
speedily checked by a look from Mr. Limbkins. The 
board then proceeded to converse among themselves 
for a few minutes, but in so low a tone that the words 
Saving of expenses,” Looked well in the accounts,” 
Have a printed report published ” were alone audi- 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


17 


ble. These only chanced to be heard^, indeed, on ac- 
count of their being very frequently repeated with great 
emphasis. 

At length the whispering ceased, and the members 
of the board having resumed their seats, Mr. Limbkins 
said: 

We have considered your proposition, and we 
don’t approve of it.” 

Not at all,” said the gentleman with the white 
waistcoat. 

Decidedly not,” added the other members. 

So you won’t let me have him, gen’lmen?” said 
Mr. Gramfield, pausing near the door. 

No,” replied Mr. Limbkins; at least, as it’s a 
dirty business, we think you ought to take something 
less than the price we offered.” 

Mr. Gamfield’s countenance brightened as, with a 
quick step, he returned to the table and said: 

What’ll you give, gen’lmen? Come, don’t be too 
hard on a poor man. What’ll you give ? ” 

should say that three pound ten was plenty,” 
said Mr. Limbkins. 

Ten shillings too much,” said the gentleman in 
the white waistcoat. 

Come,” said Camfield; say four pound, gen’l- 
men. Say four pound, and you’ve got rid of him for 
good and all. There! ” 

Three pound ten,” repeated Mr. Limbkins firmly. 

^^Come! I’ll split the difference, gen’lmen,” urged 
Camfield. Three pound fifteen.” 

Not a farthing more,” was the firm reply of Mr. 
Limbkins. 

You’re desperate hard upon me, gen’lmen,” said 
Camfield, wavering. 

^^Pooh! pooh! nonsense!” said the gentleman in 


18 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


the white waistcoat. He’d be cheap with nothing at 
all as a premium. Take him, you silly fellow! He’s 
just the boy for you. He want’s the stick now and 
then; it’ll do him good, and his hoard needn’t come 
very expensive, for he hasn’t been overfed since he was 
horn. Ha! ha! ha! ” 

So the bargain was made. Mr. Bumble was at once 
instructed that Oliver Twist and the necessary papers 
were to he conveyed before the magistrate for signature 
and approval that very afternoon. 

On account of this, little Oliver was released from 
bondage, and ordered to put himself into a clean shirt. 
He had hardly achieved this unusual performance, when 
Mr. Bumble brought him with his own hands, a basin of 
gruel, and the holiday allowance of two ounces and a 
quarter of bread. At this tremendous sight, Oliver 
began to cry very piteously, thinking, not unnaturally, 
that the board must have determined to kill him for 
some useful purpose, or they would never have begun 
to fatten him up in that way. 

Don’t make your eyes red, Oliver, but eat your 
bread and be thankful,” said Mr. Bumble in a pompous 
tone. You’re going to be made a ’prentice of, Oliver.” 

A ’prentice, sir?” said the child, trembling. 

Yes, Oliver,” said Mr. Bumble. The kind and 
blessed gentlemen which is so many parents to you, 
when you had none of your own, are agoing to ’prentice 
you and to set you up in life and make a man of you, 
although the expense to the parish is three pound ten. 
Three pound ten, Oliver! — seventy shillings — one hun- 
dred and forty sixpences — and all for a naughty orphan 
which nobody can’t love.” 

As Mr. Bumble paused to take breath after deliver- 
ing this address in an awful voice, the tears rolled down 
the poor child’s face, and he sobbed bitterly. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


19 


Come/’ said Mr. Bumble, for it was gratifying to 
his feelings to observe the effect his eloquence had pro- 
duced — come, Oliver! Wipe your eyes with the cuffs 
of your jacket, and don’t cry into your gruel; that’s a 
very foolish action, Oliver.” It certainly was, for there 
was quite enough water in it already. 

On their way to the magistrate Mr. Bumble in- 
structed Oliver that all he would have to do would be 
to look very happy, and say, when the gentleman asked 
him if he wanted to be apprenticed, that he would like 
it very much indeed, both of which commands Oliver 
promised to obey. When they arrived at the office he 
was shut up in a little room by himself, and told by Mr. 
Bumble to stay there until he came to fetch him. 

There the boy remained with a palpitating heart 
for half an hour, at the expiration of which time Mr. 
Bumble thrust in his head and said aloud: 

Now, Oliver, my dear, come to the gentleman.” 
As Mr. Bumble said this he put on a grim and threat- 
ening look, and added in a low voice, Mind what I 
told you, you young rascal! ” 

He was led into a large room with a great window. 
Behind a desk sat two old gentlemen with powdered 
heads, one of whom was reading the newspaper, while 
the other was perusing, with the aid of a pair of tor- 
toise-shell spectacles, a small piece of parchment which 
lay before him. Mr. Limbkins was standing in front 
of the desk on one side, and Mr. Gamfield, with a par- 
tially washed face, on the other, while two or three 
bluff-looking men, in top boots, were lounging about. 

The old gentleman with the spectacles gradually 
dozed off over the bit of parchment, and there was a 
short pause after Oliver had been stationed by Mr. 
Bumble in front of the desk. 

This is the boy, your worship,” said Mr. Bumble. 


20 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


The old gentleman who was reading the newspaper 
raised his head for a moment and pnlled the other old 
gentleman by the sleeve^ whereupon the last-mentioned 
old gentleman woke up. 

Oh^ is this the hoy?^^ said the old gentleman. 

This is him^ sir/^ replied Mr. Bumble. Bow to 
the magistrate^ my dear.^’ 

Oliver roused himself, and made his best bow. 

Well/^ said the old gentleman, I suppose he’s 
fond of chimney sweeping? ” 

He loves it, your worship,” replied Bumble, giving 
Oliver a sly pinch to intimate that he had better not say 
he didn’t. 

^^And he will be a sweep, will he?” inquired the 
gentleman. 

If we was to bind him to any other trade to-mor- 
row, he’d run away at once, your worship,” replied 
Bumble. 

And this man that’s to be his master — you, sir — 
you’ll treat him well and feed him, and do all that sort 
of thing, will you?” said the old gentleman. 

When I says I will, I means I will,” replied Mr. 
Gamfield doggedly. 

You’re a rough speaker, my friend, but you look 
an honest, open-hearted man,” said the old gentleman, 
who was half blind and half childish. 

I hope I am, sir,” said Mr. Gamfield, with an ugly 

leer. 

I have no doubt you are, my friend,” replied the 
old gentleman, fixing his spectacles more firmly on his 
nose, and looking about him for an inkstand. 

It was the critical moment for Oliver’s fate. If the 
inkstand had been where the old gentleman thought it 
was, he would have dropped his pen into it and signed 
the papers, and Oliver would have been straightway 








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THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


21 


hurried off. But, as it chanced to be immediately under 
his nose, it followed, as a matter of course, that he looked 
all over his desk for it without finding it; and happen- 
ing in the course of his search to look straight before 
him, he noticed the pale and terrified face of Oliver 
Twist, who, in spite of all the looks and pinches of 
Bumble, was regarding the countenance of his future 
master with a mingled expression of horror and fear, 
too plain to be mistaken even by a half-blind magis- 
trate. 

The old gentleman stopped, laid down his pen, and 
looked from Oliver to Mr. Limbkins, who attempted to 
take snuff with a cheerful and unconcerned aspect. 

My boy,^^ said the old gentleman, you look pale 
and alarmed. What is the matter? 

Stand a little way from him, beadle,^^ said the 
other magistrate, laying aside the paper and leaning 
forward with an expression of interest. Now, boy, 
tell us whaffs the matter; donT be afraid.^^ 

Oliver fell on his knees, and, clasping his hands 
together, prayed that they would order him back to 
the dark room — that they would starve him — ^beat him 
— kill him, if they pleased — rather than send him away 
with that dreadful man. 

Mr. Bumble was dumb with astonishment. 

The old gentleman in the tortoise-shell spectacles 
nodded meaningly. 

We refuse to sign these papers,^^ said the old gen- 
tleman, tossing aside the piece of parchment as he 
spoke. 

I hope,^’ stammered Mr. Limbkins — I hope the 
magistrates will not form the opinion that the authori- 
ties have been guilty of any improper conduct on the 
word of a mere child.” 

The magistrates are not called upon to pronounce 


22 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


any opinion on the matter/^ said the second old gentle- 
man sharply. Take the hoy back to the workhouse 
and treat him kindly. He seems to want it.^^ 

The next morning the public were once more in- 
formed that Oliver Twist was again To Let/^ and that 
five pounds would be paid to anybody who would take 
possession of him. 


CHAPTEE IV. 


Aftee another meeting of the boards it was de- 
cided to send Oliver Twist to sea without delay. 

Mr. Bumble had been sent to make inquiries, with 
the view of finding out some captain or other who 
wanted a cabin boy without any friends^ and was re- 
turning to the workhouse to communicate the result 
of his mission^ when he met at the gate no less a person 
than Mr.*Sowerberry, the undertaker of the parish. 

Mr. Sowerberry was a tall, gaunt, large- jointed man, 
attired in a suit of threadbare black, with darned cotton 
stockings of the same color and shoes to answer. 

By the bye,^^ said Mr. Bumble, you don’t know 
anybody who w^ants a boy, do you? A ’prentice who is 
at present a dead weight — a millstone, as I may say — 
round the parish throat? Liberal terms, Mr. Sower- 
berry, liberal terms.” As Mr. Bumble spoke he raised 
his cane to the bill above him, and gave three distinct 
raps upon the words five pounds.” 

That’s just the very thing I wanted to speak to 
you about,” said the undertaker. 

‘^^What, about this boy?” 

Oh! ” replied the undertaker; ^^why, you know, 
Mr. Bumble, I pay a good deal toward the poor’s rates.” 

^^Hem!” said Mr. Bumble. ^^Well?” 

^^Well,” replied the undertaker, I was thinking 
that if I pay so much toward ’em, I’ve a right to get 
23 


24 : 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


as much out of ^em as I can, Mr. Bumble, and so — and 
so — I think ITl take the boy myself.^^ 

Mr. Bumble grasped the undertaker by the arm and 
led him into the building. Mr. Sowerberry was clos- 
eted with the board for five minutes, and it was ar- 
ranged that Oliver should go to him that evening 
upon liking — a phrase which means, in the case of 
a parish apprentice, that if the master find, upon a short 
trial, that he can get enough work out of a boy without 
putting too much food into him, he shall have him for 
a term of years to do what he likes with. 

When little Oliver was taken before the gentle- 
men that evening, and informed that he was to go 
that night as general house lad to a coffin-maker’s, and 
that if he complained of his situation or ever came back 
to the parish again, he would be sent to sea, as the 
case might be, he evinced so little emotion that they, 
by common consent, pronounced him a hardened young 
rascal, and ordered Mr. Bumble to remove him forth- 
with. 

He heard the news of his destination in perfect si- 
lence, and, having had his luggage put into his hand — 
which was not very difficult to carry, inasmuch as it 
was all comprised within the limits of a brown paper 
parcel, about half a foot square by three inches deep — 
he pulled his cap over his eyes, and once more attaching 
himself to Mr. Bumble’s coat cuff, was led away by that 
officer to a new scene of suffering. 

For some time Mr. Bumble drew Oliver along with- 
out notice or remark. As they drew near to their des- 
tination, however, Mr. Bumble thought it expedient to 
look down and see that the boy was in good order for 
inspection by his new master, which he accordingly did, 
with a fit and becoming air of gracious patronage. 

Oliver,” said Mr. Bumble. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


25 


Yes, sir/ ^ replied Oliver, in a low, tremnlons 

voice. 

Pull that cap off your eyes and hold up your head, 

sir.^^ 

Although Oliver did as he was desired at once, and 
passed the back of his unoccupied hand briskly across 
his eyes, he left a tear in them when he looked up at 
his conductor. As Mr. Bumble gazed sternly upon 
him, it rolled down his cheek. It was followed by an- 
other and another. The child made a strong effort^ 
but it was an unsuccessful one. Withdrawing his other 
hand from Mr. Bumblers, he covered his face with both, 
and wept until the tears sprung out from between his 
chin and bony fingers. 

^^WelV^ exclaimed Mr. Bumble, stopping short and 
darting at his little charge a look of intense malignity 
— ‘^^well, of all the ungratefulest and worst-disposed 

boys as ever I see, Oliver, you are the 

No, no, no, sir! sobbed Oliver, clinging to the 
hand which held the well-known cane — no, no, sir, I 
will be good, indeed; indeed, indeed, I will, sir. I am a 

very little boy, sir, and it is so — so 

So what ? inquired Mr. Bumble, in amazement. 
So lonely, sir! so very lonely! cried the child. 

Everybody hates me. Oh, sir, don’t, don’t, pray, be 
cross to me! ” The child beat his hands upon his heart, 
and looked into his companion’s face with tears of real 
agony. 

Mr. Bumble regarded Oliver’s piteous and helpless 
look with some astonishment for a few seconds, hemmed 
three or four times in a husky manner, and, after mut- 
tering something about that troublesome cough,” bade 
Oliver dry his eyes and be a good boy. Then once more 
taking his hand, he walked on with him in silence. 

The undertaker, who had Just put up the shutters 


26 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


of his shop, was making some entries in his daybook 
by the light of a most appropriate dismal candle when 
Mr. Bumble entered. 

^^Aha!^^ said the undertaker, looking up from the 
book and pausing in. the middle of a word; is that 
you. Bumble ? 

'No one else, Mr. Sowerherry,^^ replied the beadle. 
Here, IVe brought the boy.’’ Oliver made a how. 

Oh, that’s the hoy, is it?” said the undertaker, 
raising the candle above his head to get a better view 
of Oliver. Mrs. Sowerherry, will you have the good- 
ness to come here a moment, my dear? ” 

Mrs. Sowerherry emerged from a little room behind 
the shop, and presented the form of a short, thin, 
squeezed-up woman, with a cross countenance. 

My dear,” said Mr. Sowerherry, this is the boy 
from the workhouse that I told you of.” Oliver bowed 
again. 

Dear me! ” said the undertaker’s wife; he’s very 
small.” 

^^Why, he is rather small,” replied Mr. Bumble, 
looking at Oliver as if it was his fault that he was no 
bigger; he is small. There’s no denying it. But he’ll 
grow, Mrs. Sowerherry, he’ll grow.” 

Ah! I dare say he will,” replied the lady pettishly, 
on our victuals and our drink. I see no saving in 
parish children, not I; for they always cost more to 
keep than the3^’re worth. There! get downstairs, little 
hag o’ hones! ” With this the undertaker’s wife opened 
a side door, and pushed Oliver down a steep flight of 
stairs into a stone cell, damp and dark, forming the 
anteroom to a coal cellar, and called kitchen,” where- 
in sat an untidy girl, in shoes down at heel and blue 
worsted stockings very much out of repair. 

Here, Charlotte,” said Mrs. Sowerherry, who had 


THE STORY OE OLIVER TWIST. 


27 


followed Oliver down, give this boy some of the cold 
bits that were put by for Trip. He hasnT come home 
since the morning, so he may go without ^em. I dare 
say the boy isn’t too dainty to eat ’em — are you, boy? ” 

Oliver, whose eyes had glistened at the mention of 
meat, and who was trembling with eagerness to devour 
it, replied in the negative, and a plateful of coarse 
broken victuals was set before him. 

I wish some well-fed boys who complain of their 
meat and drink could have seen Oliver Twist clutching 
at the dainty viands that the dog had neglected. I 
wish they could have seen the eagerness with which 
Oliver tore the bits apart with all the fierceness of 
hunger. 

Well,” said the undertaker’s wife, when Oliver had 
finished his supper, have you done?” 

There being nothing eatable within his reach, Oliver 
replied, ^^Yes.” 

Then come with me,” said Mrs. Sowerberry, tak- 
ing up a dim and dirty lamp and leading the way up- 
stairs; your bed’s under the counter. You don’t mind 
sleeping among the coffins, I suppose? But it doesn’t 
much matter whether you do or don’t, for you can’t 
sleep anywhere else. Come, don’t keep me here all 
night! ” 

Oliver lingered no longer, but meekly followed his 
new mistress. 


CHAPTEE y. 

Olivee^ being left to himself in the undertaker’s 
shop, set the lamp down on a workman’s bench and 
gazed timidly about him with a feeling of awe and 
^read, which many people a good deal older than he 
was will be at no loss to understand. The place looked 
so gloomy and deathlike that a cold tremble came over 
him, although the shop was close and hot in reality. 
The recess beneath the counter in which his flock mat- 
tress was thrust looked like a grave. 

ISTor were these the only dismal feelings that de- 
pressed Oliver. He was alone in a strange place, and 
we all know how chilled and desolate the best of us will 
sometimes feel in such a situation. The boy had no 
friends to care for or to care for him. His heart was 
heavy, and he wished, as he crept into his narrow bed, 
that that were his coffin, and that he could be laid in 
a calm and lasting sleep in the churchyard ground, with 
the tall grass waving gently above his head and the 
sound of the old deep bell to soothe him to sleep. 

Oliver was awakened in the morning by a loud 
kicking at the outside of the shop door, which, before 
he could huddle on his clothes, was repeated in an angry 
and impetuous manner about twenty-flve times; and, 
when he began to undo the chain, the legs left off their 
volleys, and a voice began: 

Open the door, will yer? ” 

28 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


29 


I will directly^ sir/^ replied Oliver, undoing the 
chain and turning the key. 

suppose yer the new boy, ain^t yer?^’ said the 
voice through the keyhole. 

Yes, sir,^-’ replied Oliver. 

^‘^How old are yer?^^ inquired the voice. 

Ten, sir,^^ replied Oliver. 

Then ITl whop yer when I get in,^^ said the voice. 

You just see if I donT, that^s all, my work^us brat.^^ 
And having made this obliging promise, the voice began 
to whistle. 

Oliver did not doubt him, and he drew back the 
bolts with a trembling hand and opened the door. 

For a second or two Oliver glanced up the street 
and down the street and over the way, impressed with 
the belief that the unknown who had addressed him 
through the keyhole had walked a few paces off to 
warm himself, for nobody did he see but a big charity 
boy sitting on a post in front of the house, eating a slice 
of bread and butter, which he cut into wedges the size 
of his mouth with a clasp knife, and then consumed 
with great dexterity. 

I beg your pardon, sir,’^ said Oliver at length, see- 
ing that no other visitor made his appearance, did 
you knock?” 

I kicked,” replied the charity boy. 

Did you want a coffin, sir? ” inquired Oliver, in- 
nocently. 

At this the charity boy looked monstrous fierce, and 
said that Oliver would stand in need of one before 
long if he cut jokes with his superiors in that way. 

You don’t know who I am, I suppose, Work’us? ” 
said the charity boy in continuation, descending from 
the top of the post meanwhile with gravity. 

No, sir,” rejoined Oliver. 


30 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


I’m Mister JSToah Claypole/’ said the charity hoy, 
and you’re under me. Take down the shutters, you 
idle young ruffian! ” With this, Mr. Claypole gave a 
kick to Oliver, and entered the shop with a dignified 
air, which did him great credit. . 

Oliver, having taken down the shutters, and broken 
a pane of glass in his efforts to stagger away beneath 
the weight of the first one to a small court at the side 
of the house in which they Avere kept during the day, 
was graciously assisted by Noah, who, having consoled 
him with the assurance that he’d catch it,” conde- 
scended to help him. Mr. Sowerberry came down soon 
after, and shortly afterward Mrs. Sowerberry appeared; 
and Oliver having caught it,” in fulfillment of Noah’s 
prediction, followed that young gentleman downstairs 
to breakfast. 

Come near the fire, Noah,” said Charlotte. I 
saved a nice little piece of bacon for you from master’s 
breakfast. Oliver, shut that door at Mister Noah’s back, 
and take them bits that I’ve put out on the cover of the 
bread pan. There’s your tea; take it away to that box 
and drink it there, and make haste, for they’ll want 
you to mind the shop. D’ye hear? ” 

D’ye hear, Work’us?” said Noah Claypole. 

Lor’, Noah! ” said Charlotte, what a creature you 
are! Why don’t you let the boy alone? ” 

^^Let him alone!” said Noah. ^^Why, everybody 
lets him alone enough, for the matter of that. Neither 
his father nor mother will ever interfere with him; all 
his relations let him have his own way pretty well. Eh, 
Charlotte? He! he! he! ” 

Oh, you queer soul! ” said Charlotte, bursting into 
a hearty laugh, in which she was joined by Noah. 

Noah was a charity boy, but not a workhouse or- 
phan. His mother was a washerwoman and his father a 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


31 


drunken soldier. The shopboys in the neighborhood 
had long been in the habit of branding ISioah in the 
public streets with the humiliating titles of Leathers/^ 
Charity/^ and the like, and Noah had borne them 
without reply. But. now that fortune had cast in his 
way a nameless orphan, at whom even the meanest 
could point the finger of scorn, he retorted on him with 
interest. Thus poor Oliver, in addition to the other 
hardships of his lot, was forced to endure the taunts 
and persecutions of the ignorant and brutal charity 
boy. 

Oliver had been sojourning at the undertaker’s some 
three weeks or a month without having been initiated 
into the mysteries of the profession; it was therefore 
arranged that he should accompany his master on the 
very next occasion of his services being required. 

The occasion was not long in coming, and to the 
sensitive boy the experience was most painful. 

^^Well, Oliver,” said Sowerberry, as they walked 
home, how do you like it ? ” 

Pretty well, thank you, sir,” replied Oliver, with 
considerable hesitation. Not very much, sir.” 

^^Ah! you’ll get used to it in time, Oliver,” said 
Sowerberry. ‘^Nothing when you are used to it, my 
boy! ” 

Oliver wondered in his own mind whether it had 
taken a very long time to get Mr. Sowerberry used to 
it; but he thought it better not to ask the question, and 
walked back to the shop thinking over all he had seen 
and heard. 


4 


CHAPTEE VI. 


The month^s trial over^, Oliver was formerly ap- 
prenticed. It was a nice sickly season just at this time, 
and in the course of a few weeks Oliver gained a great 
deal of experience. Many were the mournful proces- 
sions which Oliver headed, in a hatband reaching down 
to his knees, to the admiration and emotion of all the 
mothers in the town. 

And now I have come to a very important passage 
in Olivers history: 

One day Oliver and Noah had descended into the 
kitchen at the usual dinner hour to banquet upon a 
small joint of mutton — a pound and a half of the worst 
end of the neck — when Charlotte, being called out of 
the way, there ensued a brief interval of time, which 
Noah Claypole, being hungry and vicious, considered 
he could not possibly devote to a worthier purpose than 
provoking young Oliver Twist. 

Intent upon this innocent amusement, Noah put 
his feet on the tablecloth, and pulled Oliver’s hair and 
twitched his ears, and expressed his opinion that he 
was a sneak ” ; but none of these taunts producing the 
desired effect of making Oliver cry, Noah attempted to 
be more facetious still; and in this attempt did what 
many small wits with far greater reputation than Noah 
sometimes do to this day when they want to be funny — 
he got rather personal. 

Work’us,” said Noah, how’s vour mother?” 

32 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


• 33 


She^s dead/^ replied Oliver; don^t you say any- 
thing about her to me! 

Oliver^s color rose as he said this, he breathed quick- 
ly, and there was a curious working of the mouth and 
nostrils which Mr. Claypole thought must mean a vio- 
lent fit of crying. Under this impression, he returned 
to the charge. 

^‘^What did she die of, Work’us?^^ said Uoah. 

Of a broken heart, some of our old nurses told 
me,^^ replied Oliver, more as if he were talking to him- 
self than answering Uoah. I think I know what it 
must be to die of that.’^ 

Tol de rol lol lol, right fol lairy, Work’us,’^ said 
Noah, as a tear rolled down Oliver’s cheek. What’s 
set you a-sniveling now?” 

Not you,” replied Oliver, hastily brushing the 
tear away. Don’t think it.” 

Oh, not me, eh? ” sneered Noah. 

No, not you,” replied Oliver sharply. There, 
that’s enough. Don’t say anything more to me about 
her; you’d better not.” 

Better not! ” exclaimed Noah. Well, better not. 
Work’us, don’t be impudent. Your mother, too! She 
was a nice ’un, she was! 0 Lor’! ” and here Noah 
nodded his head expressively, and curled up as much 
of his small red nose as muscular action could collect 
together for the occasion. 

Yer know, Work’us,” continued Noah, emboldened 
by Oliver’s silence, and speaking in a jeering tone of 
affected pity — of all tones, the most annoying — yer 
know, Work’us, it can’t he helped now, and of course 
yer couldn’t help it then; and I’m very sorry for it, and 
I’m sure we all are, and pity yer very much. But you 
must know, Work’us, yer mother was a regular right 
down bad ’un.” 


34 • 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


^^What did you say?^^ inquired Oliver, looking up 
very quickly. 

A regular right down had ’un, Work^us/’ replied 
Noah coolly. 

Crimson with fury, Oliver started up, overthrew the 
chair and table, seized Noah hy the throat, shook him 
in the violence of his rage till his teeth chattered in 
his head, and, collecting his whole force into one heavy 
blow, felled him to the ground. 

A minute ago the hoy had looked the quiet, mild, 
dejected creature that harsh treatment had made him. 
But his spirit was roused at last; the cruel insult to his 
dead mother had set his blood on fire. His breast 
heaved; his attitude was erect; his eyes bright and 
vivid; his whole person changed as he stood glaring 
over the cowardly tormentor who now lay crouching at 
his feet, and defied him with an energy he had never 
known before. 

^^Hefil murder me,^’ blubbered Noah. Charlotte! 
missis! here^s the new hoy a-murdering of me! Help! 
help! Oliver’s gone mad! Char — lotte! ” 

Noah’s shouts were responded to hy a loud scream 
from Charlotte and a louder from Mrs. Sowerherry, the 
former of whom rushed into the kitchen hy a side door, 
while the latter paused on the staircase till she was quite 
certain that it was consistent with the preservation of 
human life to come further down. 

Oh, you little wretch! ” screamed Charlotte, seiz- 
ing Oliver with her utmost force, which was about equal 
to that of a moderately strong man in particularly good 
training. Oh, you little un — grateful, mur — de — rous, 
hor — rid villain! ” and between every syllable Charlotte 
gave Oliver a blow with all her might, accompanying it 
with a scream for the benefit of society. 

Charlotte’s fist was hy no means a light one, hut. 





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THE STOEY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


35 


lest it should not be effectual in calming Oliver’s wrath, 
Mrs. Sowerberry plunged into the kitchen and assisted 
to hold him with one hand, while she scratched his face 
with the other. In this favorable position of affairs, 
ISToah rose from the ground and pommeled him behind. 

This was rather too violent exercise to last long. 
When they were all wearied out, and could tear and 
beat no longer, they dragged Oliver, struggling and 
shouting, ’into the dust cellar, and there locked him up. 

Bless me, she’s going off!” said Charlotte. 
glass of water, Noah, dear. Make haste! ” 

0 Charlotte! ” said Mrs. Sowerberry, speaking as 
well as she could through a deficiency of breath and a 
sufficiency of cold water which Noah had poured over 
her head and shoulders — 0 Charlotte! what a mercy 
we have not all been murdered in our beds! ” 

^^ Ah! mercy, indeed, ma’am,” was the reply. I 
only hope this’ll teach master not to have any more 
of these dreadful creatures that are born to be murder- 
ers and robbers from their very cradle. Poor Noah! 
he was all but killed, ma’am, when I come in.” 

Poor fellow! ” said Mrs. Sowerberry, looking pite- 
ously on the charity boy. 

Noah, whose top waistcoat button might have been 
somewhere on a level with the crown of Oliver’s head, 
rubbed his eyes with the inside of his wrists while this 
pity was bestowed upon him, and performed some af- 
fecting tears and sniffs. 

What’s to be done?” exclaimed Mrs. Sowerberry. 
Your master’s not at home, there’s not a man in the 
house, and he’ll kick that door down in ten minutes.” 
Oliver’s vigorous plunges against the bit of timber in 
question rendered this occurrence highly probable. 

Dear, dear! I don’t know, ma’am,” said Charlotte, 
unless we send for the police officers.” 


36 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Or the millingtary/^ suggested Mr. Claypole. 

JSTo, no/^ said Mrs. Sowerberry, bethinking herself 
of Oliver^s old friend. Run to Mr. Bumhle^, Noah, 
and tell him to come here directly, and not to lose a 
minute; never mind your cap. Make haste! You can 
hold a knife to that black eye as you run along. IRll 
keep the swelling down.^^ 

Noah stopped to make no reply, hut started off at 
his fullest speed; and very much it astonished’ the peo- 
ple who were out walking to see a charity hoy rushing 
through the streets pell-mell, with no cap on his head 
and a clasp knife at his eye. 


CHAPTER VII. 


Hoah Claypole ran along the streets at his swiftest 
pace, and paused not once for breath until he reached 
the workhouse gate. Having rested there for a minute 
or so to collect a good burst of sobs and a most impos- 
ing show of tears and terror, he knocked loudly at the 
wicket, and presented such a doleful face to the aged 
pauper who opened it that even he, who saw nothing 
but doleful faces about him at the best of times, started 
back in astonishment. 

^^Why, whaPs the matter with the hoy?^^ said the 
old pauper. 

Mr. Bumble! Mr. Bumble! cried Noah, with 
well-effected dismay, and in tones so loud and agitated 
that they not only caught the ear of Mr. Bumble him- 
self, who happened to he hard by, hut alarmed him so 
much that he rushed into the yard without his cocked 
hat. 

0 Mr. Bumble, sir,^^ said Noah, Oliver, sir — 
Oliver has 

^^What? what?^^ interposed Mr. Bumble, with a 
gleam of pleasure in his hard eyes. Not run away; 
he hasnT run away, has he, Noah?^^ 

^^No, sir, no. Not run away, sir, hut he’s turned 
wicious,” replied Noah. He tried to murder me, sir, 
and then he tried to murder Charlotte and then missis.” 

When Noah saw that the news he told perfectly 
37 


38 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


paralyzed Mr. Bumble^ he added to the effect by be- 
wailing his dreadful wounds ten times louder than 
before; and when he saw the gentleman in the white 
waistcoat crossing the yard, he was more tragic in 
his meanings than ever, thinking it wise to attract 
the notice and rouse the anger of the gentleman afore- 
said. 

The gentleman^s notice was very soon attracted, for 
he had not walked three paces when he turned angrily 
round and inquired what that young cur was howl- 
ing for. 

IBs a poor boy from the free school, sir,’^ replied 
Mr. Bumble, who has been nearly murdered — ail but 
murdered, sir — by young Twist.^^ 

By Jove! exclaimed the gentleman in the white 
waistcoat, stopping short. I knew it! I felt a strange 
presentment from the very first that that bold young 
savage would come to be hung! 

He has likewise attempted, sir, to murder the serv- 
ant,^’ said Mr. Bumble, with a face of ashy paleness. 

And his missis,’^ interposed Mr. Claypole. 

And his master, too, I think you said, Hoah?’^ 
added Mr. Bumble. 

'No; he’s out or he would have murdered him,” 
replied Hoah. He said he wanted to.” 

^^Ah! said he wanted to, did he, my boy?” in- 
quired the gentleman in the white waistcoat. 

Yes, sir,” replied Hoah. And please, sir, missis 
wants to know whether Mr. Bumble can spare the time 
to step up there directly and flog him, ’cause master’s 
out.” 

Certainly, my boy, certainly,” said the gentleman 
in the white waistcoat., smiling kindly and patting 
Hoah’s head, which was about three inches higher than 
his own. You’re a good boy, a very good boy. Here’s 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


39 


a penny for you. — Bumble, just step up to Sowerberry’s 
with your cane, and see whaBs best to be done. Don’t 
spare him. Bumble.” 

No, I will not, sir,” replied the beadle. 

Tell Sowerberry not to spare him either. They’ll 
never do anything with him without stripes and 
bruises,” said the gentleman in the white waistcoat. 

I’ll take care, sir,” replied the beadle. And so 
Mr. Bumble and Noah Claypole betook themselves with 
all speed to the undertaker’s shop. 

Here the position of affairs had not at all improved. 
Sowerberry had not yet returned, and Oliver continued 
to kick with vigor at the cellar door. The accounts of 
his rage as related by Mrs. Sowerberry and Charlotte 
were of so startling a nature that Mr. Bumble judged 
it prudent to speak to him before opening the door. 
With this view, he gave a kick at the outside, and then, 
applying his mouth to the keyhole, said in a deep and: 
impressive tone: 

Oliver! ” 

Come; you let me out! ” replied Oliver from the 
inside. 

Do you know this here voice, Oliver? ” said Mr. 
Bumble. 

Yes,” replied Oliver. 

Ain’t you afraid of it, sir? Ain’t you a-trembling 
while I speak, sir?” said Mr. Bumble. 

No,” replied Oliver boldly. 

An answer so different from the one he had ex- 
pected and was in the habit of receiving staggered Mr. 
Bumble not a little. He stepped back from the key- 
hole, drew himself up to his full height, and looked 
from one to another of the three bystanders in mute 
astonishment. 

Oh, you know, Mr. Bumble, he must be mad,” 


40 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


said Mrs. Sowerberry. No boy in half his senses would 
venture to speak so to you.^^ 

^^Ifs not madness^, ma’am/^ replied Mr. Bumble, 
after a moment^s deep thought. It^s meat.^^ 

^^What?^^ exclaimed Mrs. Sowerberry. 

Meat, ma^am, meat,^^ replied Bumble sternly. 

YouNe overfed him, ma’am. If you had kept the 
boy on gruel, ma’am, this would never have hap- 
pened.” 

Dear, dear! ” ejaculated Mrs. Sowerberry, piously 
raising her eyes to the kitchen ceiling; this comes of 
being generous! ” 

Now, the generosity of Mrs. Sowerberry to Oliver 
had consisted in giving him all the dirty odds and ends 
which nobody else would eat. 

^^Ah!” said Mr. Bumble, when the lady brought 
her eyes down to earth again, the only thing that can 
be done now that I knoAV of is to leave him in the cellar 
for a day or so till he’s a little starved down, and then 
take him out and keep him on gruel all through his 
apprenticeship. He comes of a bad family. Excitable 
natures, Mrs. Sowerberry! ” 

At this point of Mr. Bumble’s discourse Oliver, just 
hearing enough to know that some new allusion was 
being made to his mother, began kicking again with 
violence. Sowerberry returned at this juncture. Oli- 
ver’s offense having been explained to him, with such 
exaggerations as the ladies thought necessary to rouse 
his anger, he unlocked the cellar door in a twinkling, 
and dragged his rebellious apprentice out by the 
collar. 

Oliver’s clothes had been torn in the beating he had 
received, his face was bruised and scratched, and his 
hair scattered over his forehead. The angry flush had 
not disappeared, however, and when he was pulled out 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


41 


of his prison he scowled boldly on Noah^ and looked 
quite undismayed. 

Now, you are a nice young fellow, ain’t you?” 
said Sowerberry, giving Oliver a shake and a box on 
the ear. 

He called my mother names,” replied Oliver. 

Well, and what if he did, you little ungrateful 
wretch?” said Mrs. Sowerberry. She deserved what 
he said, and worse.” 

She didn’t,” said Oliver. 

She did,” said Mrs. Sowerberry. 

^^It’s a lie!” said Oliver. 

Mrs. Sowerberry hurst into a flood of tears. 

This flood of tears left Mr. Sowerberry no choice. 
He at once gave Oliver a thrashing which satisfled even 
Mrs. Sowerberry herself, and rendered Mr. Bumble’s 
application of the cane rather unnecessary. For the 
rest of the day he was shut up in the back kitchen, in 
company with a pump and a slice of breaH; and at 
night Mrs. Sowerberry, after making various remarks 
outside the door by no means complimentary to the 
memory of his mother, looked into the room, and, amid 
the jeers and pointings of Noah and Charlotte, ordered 
him upstairs to his dismal bed. 

It was not until he was left alone in the silence and 
stillness of the gloomy workshop of the undertaker that 
Oliver gave way to the feelings which the day’s treat- 
ment may be supposed likely to have wakened in a mere 
child. He had listened to their taunts with a look of 
contempt; he had borne the lash without a cry, for he 
felt that pride swelling in his heart which would have 
kept down a shriek to the last though they had roasted 
him alive. But now, when there were none to see or 
hear him, he fell upon his knees on the floor, and hid- 
ing his face in his hands, wept such tears as, God send 


42 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


for the credit of our nature, few so young may ever have 
cause to pour out before him! 

For a long time Oliver remained motionless in this 
attitude. The candle was burning low in the socket 
when he rose to his feet. Having gazed cautiously 
round him, and listened intently, he gently undid the 
fastenings of the door and looked abroad. 

It was a cold, dark night. The stars seemed to the 
hoy’s eyes farther from the earth than he had ever seen 
them before; there was no wind, and the somber shad- 
ows thrown by the trees upon the ground looked death- 
like from being so still. He softly reclosed the door. 
Having made use of the dying light of the candle to tie 
up in a handkerchief the few articles of clothing he 
had, he sat himself down upon a bench to wait for 
morning. 

With the first ray of light that struggled through 
the cracks in the shutters, Oliver arose and again un- 
barred the door. One timid look around — one mo- 
ment’s pause uT hesitation — he had closed it behind 
him, and was in the open street. 

He looked to the right and to the left, uncertain 
whither to fly. He remembered to have seen the 
wagons, as they went out, toiling up the hill. He took 
the same route, and arriving at a footpath across the 
fields, which he knew, after some distance, led out 
again into the road, struck into it, and walked quickly 
on. 

Along this same footpath Oliver w^ell remembered he 
had trotted beside Mr. Bumble when he first carried 
him to the workhouse from the farm. 

His way lay directly in front of the cottage. His 
heart beat quickly when he thought of this, and he half 
resolved to turn back. He had come a long way, though, 
and should lose a great deal of time by doing so. Be- 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 



sides, it was so early that there was very little fear of \ 
his being seen, so he walked on. 

He reached the house. There was no appearance of 
its inmates stirring at that early hour. Oliver stopped 
and peeped' into the garden. A child was weeding one 
of the little beds; as he stopped he raised his pale face, 
and disclosed the features of one of his former com- 
panions. Oliver felt glad to see him before he went, 
for, though younger than himself, he had been his 
little friend and playmate. They had been beaten and 
starved and shut up together many and many a time. 

^^Hush, Dick! said Oliver, as the hoy ran to the 
gate and thrust his thin arm between the rails to greet 
him. Is any one up? 

ISTobody but me,^’ replied the child. 

You mustn’t say you saw me, Dick,” said Oliver. 

I am running away. They beat and ill-use me, Dick, 
and I am going to seek my fortune some long way off. 

I don’t know where. How pale you are! ” 

I heard the doctor tell them I was dying,” replied 
the child, with a faint smile. I am very glad to see 
you, dear; but don’t stop, don’t stop! ” 

Yes, yes, I will, to say good-hy to you,” replied 
Oliver. shall see you again, Dick. I know I shall! 

You will he well and happy! ” 

I hope so,” replied the child. After I am dead, 
hut not before. Kiss me,” said the child, climbing up 
the low gate and flinging his little arms round Oliver’s 
neck. Good-hy, dear! God bless you! ” 

The blessing was from a young child’s lips, hut it 
was the first that Oliver had ever heard called down 
upon his head, and through the struggles and suffer- 
ings and troubles and changes of his after life he never 
once forgot it. ^ 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Oliver reached the stile at which the bypath ter- 
minated, and once more gained the highroad. It was 
eight o^clock now. Though he was nearly five miles 
away from the town, he ran and hid behind the hedges 
by turns till noon, fearing that he might be pursued and 
overtaken. Then he sat down to rest by the side of the 
milestone, and began to think, for the first time, where 
he had better go and try to live. 

The stone by which he was seated bore, in large 
characters, the fact that it was just seventy miles from 
that spot to London. He had often heard the old men 
in the workhouse, too, say that no lad of spirit need 
want in London, and that there were ways of living in 
that vast city which those who had been bred up in 
country parts had no idea of. As these things passed 
through his thoughts, he jumped upon his feet and 
again walked forward. 

He had diminished the distance between himself 
and London by full four miles more before he recol- 
lected how much he must undergo ere he could hope 
to reach his place of destination. As this considera- 
tion forced itself upon him, he slackened his pace a 
little, and thought upon his means of getting there. 
He had a crust of bread, a coarse shirt, and two pairs 
of stockings in his bundle. He liad a penny, too — a 
gift of Sowerherry’s after some funeral in which he had 
44 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


45 


behaved well. A clean shirt/^ thought Oliver^ is a 
very comfortable thing; and so are two pairs of darned 
stockings, and so is a penny, but they are small helps to 
a sixty-five miles^ walk in winter time.^^ 

Oliver walked twenty miles that day, and all that 
time tasted nothing but the crust of dry bread and a 
few draughts of water which he begged at the cottage 
doors by the roadside. When the night came, he turned 
into a meadow, and, creeping close under a hayrick, de- 
termined to lie there till morning. He felt frightened 
at first, for the wind moaned dismally over the empty 
fields, and hungry, and more alone than he had ever felt 
before. Being very tired with his walk, however, he 
soon fell asleep and forgot his troubles. 

He felt cold and stiff when he got up next morning, 
and was so hungry that he was obliged to exchange the 
penny for a small loaf in the first village through which 
he passed. He had walked no more than twelve miles 
when night closed in again. His feet were sore, and 
his legs so weak that they trembled beneath him. An- 
other night passed in the bleak, damp air made him 
worse; when he set forward on his journey next morn- 
ing, he could hardly crawl along. 

In some villages large painted boards were fixed up, 
warning all persons who begged within the district that 
they would be sent to jail. This frightened Oliver very 
much, and made him glad to get out of those villages 
with all possible haste. In others, he would stand about 
the innyards, and look mournfully at every one who 
passed — a proceeding which generally terminated in the 
landlady's ordering one of the postboys who were loung- 
ing about to drive that strange boy out of the place, 
for she was sure he had come to steal something. If 
he begged at a farmer’s house, ten to one but they 
threatened to set the dog on him; and when he showed 


46 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. - 


his nose in a shop^ they talked about the beadle^ which 
brought Oliver's heart into his mouth — very often the 
only thing he had there for hours together. 

In fact, if it had not been for a good-natured turn- 
pike man and a benevolent old lady, Oliver's troubles 
would have been shortened by the very same process 
which had put an end to his mother's — in other words, 
he would have assuredly have fallen dead upon the 
king's highway. But the turnpike man gave him a 
meal of bread and cheese; and the old lady took pity 
upon the poor orphan, and gave him what little she 
could afford — and more — with such kind and gentle 
words, and such tears of sympathy and compassion, 
that they sank deeper into Oliver's soul than all the 
sufferings he had ever undergone. 

Early on the seventh morning after he had left his 
native place, Oliver limped slowly into the little town 
of Barnet. The windoAV shutters were closed, the streets 
were empty, not a soul had awakened to the business of 
the day. The sun was rising in all its splendid beauty, 
hut the light only served to show the hoy his lonesome- 
ness and desolation as he sat, with bleeding feet and 
covered with dust, upon a doorstep. 

He had been crouching on the step for some time, 
wondering at the great number of public houses, gazing 
listlessly at the coaches as they passed through, and 
thinking how strange it seemed that they could do with 
ease in a few hours what it had taken him a whole week 
of courage and determination beyond his years to accom- 
plish, when he was roused by observing that a boy who 
had passed him carelessly a few minutes before had 
returned, and was now surveying him most earnestly 
from the opposite side of the way. He took little heed 
of this at first, but the boy remained in the same atti- 
tude of close observation so long that Oliver raised his 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


47 


head and returned his steady look. Upon this, the hoy 
crossed over and, walking close up to Oliver, said: 

Hullo, my covey! What’s the row? ” 

The boy who addressed this inquiry to the young 
wayfarer was about his own age, but one of the queerest- 
looking boys that Oliver had ever seen. He was a snub- 
nosed, flat-browed, common-faced youth enough, and as 
dirty a juvenile as one would wish to see; but he had 
about him all the airs and manners of a man. He was 
short of his age, with rather bow legs, and little, sharp, 
ugly eyes. His hat was stuck on the back of his head 
so lightly that it threatened to fall off every moment, 
and would have done so very often if the wearer had not 
had a knack of every now and then giving his head a 
sudden twitch, which brought it back to its old place 
again. He wore a man’s coat, which reached nearly to 
his heels. He had turned the cuffs back halfway up 
his arm to get his hands out of the sleeves, apparently 
with the ultimate view of thrusting them into the pock- 
ets of his corduroy trousers, for there he kept them. 
He was, altogether, as roistering and swaggering a 
young gentleman as ever stood four feet six, or some- 
thing less, in his bluchers. 

Hullo, my covey! What’s the row? ” said this 
strange young gentleman to Oliver. 

I am very hungry and tired,” replied Oliver, the 
tears standing in his eyes as he spoke. I have walked 
a long way. I have been walking these seven days.” 

Walking for sivin days! ” said the young gentle- 
man. Oh, I see. Beak’s order, eh? But,” he added, 
noticing Oliver’s look of surprise, I suppose you don’t 
know what a beak is, my flash com — pan — ^ion.” 

Oliver mildly replied that he had always heard a 
bird’s mouth described by the term in question. 

^^My eyes, how green!” exclaimed the young gen- 
5 


4:8 


THE STOEY OF OLIVEE TWIST. 


tleman. Why, a beak^s a madgstrate; and when yon 
walk by a beak^s order, it^s not straight forerd, but al- 
ways agoing up and nivir acoming down agin. Was 
you never on the mill ? 

What mill ? inquired Oliver. 

What mill ? Why, the mill — the mill as takes up 
so little room that itdl work inside a stone jug, and 
always goes better when the wind^s low with people 
than when it^s high, acos then they can’t get workmen. 
But come,” said the young gentleman, you want grub, 
and you shall have it. I’m at low-water mark myself — 
only one boh and a magpie — ^hut, as far it goes. I’ll fork 
out and stump. Up with you on your pins. There! 
Now, then, Morrice! ” 

Assisting Oliver to rise, the young gentleman took 
him to an adjacent chandler’s shop, where he purchased 
a sufficiency of ready-dressed ham and a half-quartern 
loaf; and Oliver, falling to at his new friend’s bidding, 
made a long and hearty meal, during the progress of 
which the strange hoy eyed him from time to time with 
great attention. 

Going to London?” said the strange boy, when 
Oliver had at length concluded. 

Yes.” 

Got any lodgings? ” 

No.” 

Money? ” 

No.” 

The strange hoy whistled, and put his arms into 
his pockets as far as the big coat sleeves would let 
them go. 

Do you live in London?” inquired Oliver. 

^^Yes, I do, when I’m at home,” replied the boy. 

I suppose you want some place to sleep in to-night, 
don’t you ? ” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


49 


I do, indeed/^ answered Oliver. I have not slept 
under a roof since I left the country.^^ 

Don^t fret your eyelids on that score/^ said the 
young gentleman. IVe got to be in London to-night, 
and I know a ^spectahle old genelman as lives there 
woLll give you lodgings for nothink, and never ask for 
change — that is, if any genelman he knows interduces 
you. And don’t he know me ? Oh, no, not in the least. 
By no means. Certainly not! ” 

This unexpected offer of shelter was too tempting to 
he resisted, especially as it was immediately followed by 
the assurance that the old gentleman referred to would 
doubtless provide Oliver with a comfortable place with- 
out loss of time. This led to a more friendly and con- 
fidential dialogue, from which Oliver discovered that his 
friend’s name was Jack Dawkins, and that he was a 
peculiar pet of the elderly gentleman before mentioned; 
and he also told him that his friends called him The 
artful Dodger.” 

As John Dawkins objected to their entering London 
before nightfall, it was nearly eleven o’clock when they 
reached the turnpike at Islington. 

Although Oliver had enough to occupy his attention 
in keeping sight of his leader, he could not help bestow- 
ing a few hasty glances on either side of the way as he 
passed along. A dirtier or more wretched place he had 
never seen. The street was very narrow and muddy, 
and the air was impregnated with filthy odors. There 
were a good many small shops, but the only stock-in- 
trade appeared to be heaps of children, who, even at 
that time of night, were crawling in and out at the 
doors or screaming from the inside. 

Oliver was just considering whether he hadn’t better 
run away when they reached the bottom of the hill. 
His conductor, catching him by the arm, pushed open 


50 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


the door of a house near Field Lane and, drawing him 
into the passage, closed it behind them. 

^^]Vow, then! cried a voice from below in reply 
to a whistle from the Dodger. 

Plummy and slam! was the reply. 

This seemed to be some watchword or signal that all 
was right, for the light of a feeble candle gleamed on 
the wall at the remote end of the passage and ’a man^s 
face peeped out from where a balustrade of the old 
kitchen staircase had been broken away. 

There^s two on you,^^ said the man, thrusting the 
candle further out, and shading his eyes with his hand. 
^^Who^s the Pother one?^^ 

A new pal,^’ replied J ack Dawkins, pulling Oliver 
forward. 

Where did he come from? ” 

Greenland. Is Fagin upstairs? ” 

Y^es, he^s sortin^ the wipes. Up with you! ” The 
candle was drawn back and the face disappeared. 

Oliver, groping his way with one hand, and having 
the other firmly grasped by his companion, ascended 
with much difficulty the dark and broken stairs, which 
his conductor mounted with an ease that showed he was 
well acquainted with them. He threw open the door 
of a back room and drew Oliver in after him. 

The walls and ceiling of the room were perfectly 
black with age and dirt. There was a deal table before 
the fire, upon which was a candle stuck in a ginger-beer 
bottle, two or three pewter pots, a loaf and butter, and 
a plate. In a frying pan which was on the fire, and 
which was secured to the mantelshelf by a string, some 
sausages were cooking; and standing over them, with 
a toasting fork in his hand, was a very old, shriveled 
Jew, whose villainous-looking and repulsive face was 
obscured by a quantity of matted red hair. He was 








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THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


51 


dressed in a greasy flannel gown, with, his throat hare, 
and seemed to be dividing his attention between the 
frying pan and a clotheshorse, over which a great num- 
ber of silk handkerchiefs were hanging. Several rough 
beds, made of old sacks, were huddled side by side on 
the floor. Seated round the table were four or flve hoys, 
none older than the Dodger, smoking long clay pipes 
and drinking spirits with the air of middle-aged men. 
These all crowded about their associate as he whispered 
a few words to the Jew, and then turned round and 
grinned at Oliver. So did the Jew himself, toasting 
fork in hand. 

This is him, Fagin,^^ said Jack Dawkins; ^^my 
friend, Oliver Twist.^^ 

The Jew grinned, and, making a low bow to Oliver, 
took him by the hand and hoped he should have the 
honor of their intimate acquaintance. Upon this, the 
young gentlemen with the pipes came round him and 
shook both his hands very hard, especially the one in 
which he held his little bundle. One young gentleman 
was very anxious to hang up his cap for him, and an- 
other was so obliging as to put his hands in his pockets, 
in order that, as he was very tired, he might not have 
the trouble of emptying them himself when he went 
to bed. These civilities would probably have been ex- 
tended much further hut for a liberal exercise of the 
Jew’s toasting fork on the heads and shoulders of the 
affectionate youths who offered them. 

We are very glad to see you, Oliver, very,” said 
the Jew. Dodger, take off the sausages, and draw a 
tub near the Are for Oliver. Ah! you’re a-staring at 
the pocket handkerchiefs? Eh, my dear? There are 
a good many of ’em, ain’t there? We’ve just looked 
’em out, ready for the wash. 

The latter part of this speech was hailed by a loud 


52 


THE STOKY OP OLIVER TWIST. 


laugh from all the hopeful pupils of the merry old gen- 
tleman^ in the midst of which they went to supper. 

Oliver ate his share^ and the Jew then mixed him a 
glass of hot gin and water, telling him he must drink 
it off directly, because another gentleman wanted the 
tumbler. Oliver did as he was desired. Immediately 
afterward he felt himself gently lifted on to one of the 
sacks, and then he sank into a deep sleep. 


CHAPTEK IX. 


It was late next morning when Oliver awoke from 
a sound, long sleep. There was no other person in the 
room hnt the old Jew, who was boiling, some coffee in a 
saucepan for breakfast. He would stop every now and 
then to listen when there was the least noise below, and 
when he had satisfied himself he would go on whistling 
and stirring again as before. 

Although Oliver had roused himself from sleep, he 
was not thoroughly awake. 

He saw the Jew with his half-closed eyes, he heard 
his low whistling, and recognized the sound of the spoon 
grating round the saucepan^s sides, and yet the self- 
same senses were mentally engaged at the same time 
in busy action with almost everybody he had ever 
known. 

When the coffee was done, the Jew drew the sauce- 
pan to the hob. Standing then for a few minutes, 
as if he did not know how to employ himself, he turned 
round and looked at Oliver, and called him by his name. 
He did not answer, and was to all appearance asleep. 

After satisfying himself upon this head, the Jew 
stepped gently to the door, which he fastened. He 
then drew forth, as it seemed to Oliver, from some trap 
in the floor, a small box, which he placed carefully on 
the table. His eyes glistened as he raised the lid and 
looked in. Dragging an old chair to the table, he sat 
53 


54 


THE STOEY OF OLIVEE TWIST. 


down^ and took from it a magnificent gold watch spar- 
kling with jewels. 

Aha! said the Jew, shrugging his shoulders and 
twisting every feature with a hideous grin. Clever 
dogs! clever dogs! Firm to the fast! Never poached 
upon old Fagin! No, no, no! Fine fellows! Fine fel- 
lows! 

With these mutterings, the Jew once more put hack 
the watch in its place of safety. At least a half dozen 
more were severally drawn forth from the same box, 
besides rings, brooches, bracelets, and other articles 
of jewelry of such magnificent materials and costly 
workmanship that Oliver had no idea even of their 
names. 

Having replaced these trinkets, the Jew took out 
another, so small that it lay in the palm of his hand. 
There seemed to he some very minute inscription on 
it, for the Jew laid it fiat upon the table, and, shading 
it with his hand, pored over it long and earnestly. At 
length he put it down, as if despairing of success, and 
leaned hack in his chair. 

As he did so, his bright dark eyes, which had been 
staring vacantly before him, fell on Oliver’s face; the 
hoy’s eyes were fixed on him in mute curiosity, and, al- 
though the recognition was only for an instant, it was 
enough to show the old man that he had been watched. 
He closed the lid of the box with a loud crash, and, 
laying his hand on a bread' knife which was on the 
table, started furiously up. He trembled very much, 
though, for even in his terror Oliver could see that the 
knife quivered in the air. 

What’s that?” said the Jew. ^^What do you 
watch me for? Why are you awake? What have you 
seen? Speak out, boy! Quick, quick! for your life!” 

I wasn’t able to sleep any longer, sir,” replied Oli- 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


55 


ver meekly. am very sorry I have disturbed you, 
sir.^^ 

You were not awake an hour ago? said the Jew, 
scowling fiercely on the hoy. 

ISTo — no, indeed, replied Oliver. 

Are you sure ? cried the J ew, with a still fiercer 
look than before and a threatening attitude. 

^^Upon my word, I was not, sir,^^ replied Oliver 
earnestly. I was not, indeed, sir.^^ 

Tush, tush, my dear! said the Jew, abruptly re- 
suming his old manner and playing with the knife a 
little before he laid it down, as if to persuade Oliver 
that he had caught it up in mere sport. Of course I 
know that, my dear. I only tried to frighten you. 
You’re a brave hoy, Oliver!” The Jew rubbed his 
hands with a chuckle, hut glanced uneasily at the box 
notwithstanding. 

Did you see any of these pretty things, my dear? ” 
said the Jew, laying his hand upon it after a short 
pause. 

Yes, sir,” replied Oliver. 

^^Ah!” said the Jew, turning rather pale. They 
— they’re mine, Oliver, my little property. All I have 
to live upon in my old age. The folks call me a miser, 
my dear — only a miser, that’s all.” 

Oliver thought the old gentleman must he a decided 
miser to live in such a dirty place with so many watches; 
hut, thinking that perhaps his fondness for the Dodger 
and the other hoys cost him a good deal of money, he 
only cast a respectful look at the Jew, and asked if he 
might get up. 

Certainly, my dear, certainly,” replied the old gen- 
tleman. Stay! there’s a pitcher of water in the cor- 
ner by the door. Bring it here, and I’ll give you a basin 
to wash in, my dear.” 


56 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Oliver got up, walked across the room, and stopped 
for an instant to raise the pitcher. When he turned his 
head the box was gone. 

He had scarcely washed himself and made every- 
thing tidy by emptying the basin out of the window, 
according to the Jew^s directions, when the Dodger re- 
turned, accompanied by a very likely young friend, 
whom Oliver had seen smoking on the previous night, 
and who was now formally introduced to him as Charley 
Bates. The four sat down to breakfast on the coffee 
and some hot rolls and ham, which the Dodger had 
brought home in the crown of his hat. 

^^Well,^^ said the Jew, glancing slyly at Oliver, and 
addressing himself to the Dodger, I hope you’ve been 
at work this morning, my dears ? ” 

Hard,” replied the Dodger. 

As nails,” added Charley Bates. 

Good boys! good boys! ” said the Jew. AVhat 
have you got. Dodger? ” 

couple of pocketbooks,” replied the young 

man. 

Lined?” inquired the Jew, with eagerness. 

Pretty well,” replied the Dodger, producing two 
pocketbooks, one green and the other red. 

^^Hot so heavy as they might he,” said the Jew, 
after looking at the insides carefully, but very neat 
and nicely made. Clever workman, ain’t he, Oliver?” 

^^Yery, indeed, sir,” said Oliver. At which Master 
Charley Bates laughed loudly, very much to the amaze- 
ment of Oliver, who saw nothing to laugh at in anything 
that had passed. 

^^And what have you got, my dear?” said Fagin 
to Charley Bates. 

Wipes,” replied Master Bates, at the same time 
producing four pocket handkerchiefs. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


57 


said the Jew, inspecting them closely, 
theyhe very good ones, very. Y^ou havenY marked 
them well, though, Charley, so the marks shall he 
picked out with a needle, and weTl teach Oliver how to 
do it. Shall we, Oliver, eh? Ha! ha! ha! 

If you please, sir,^^ said Oliver. 

You’d like to he able to make pocket handker- 
chiefs as easy as Charley Bates, wouldn’t you, my dear? ” 
said the Jew. 

Very much, indeed, if you’ll teach me, sir,” re- 
plied Oliver. 

Master Bates saw something so very funny in this 
reply that he burst into another laugh, which laugh, 
meeting the coffee he was drinking, and carrying it down 
- some wrong channel, very nearly ended in sudden 
choking. 

^^He is so jolly green!” said Charley, when he re- 
covered, as an apology to the company for his impolite 
behavior. 

The Dodger said nothing, hut he smoothed Oliver’s 
hair over his eyes, and said he’d know better by and 
by; upon which the old gentleman, seeing Oliver’s 
color mounting, changed the subject. 

When the breakfast was cleared away, the merry old 
gentleman and the two hoys played at a very curious 
and uncommon game, which was performed in this way: 
The merry old gentleman, placing a snuffbox in one 
pocket of his trousers, a notecase in another, and a 
watch in his waistcoat pocket, with a guard chain round 
’ his neck, and sticking a mock diamond pin in his shirt, 
buttoned his coat tight round him, and, putting his 
spectacle case and handkerchief in his pockets, trotted 
up and down the room with a stick, in imitation of the 
manner in which old gentlemen walk about the streets 
any hour in the day. Sometimes he stopped at the fire- 


58 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


place and sometimes at the door, making believe that 
he was staring with all his might into shop windows. At 
such times he would look constantly round him for fear 
of thieves, and keep slapping all his pockets in turn to 
see that he hadn^t lost anything, in such a very funny 
and natural manner that Oliver laughed till the tears 
ran down his face. All the time the two boys followed 
him closely about, getting out of his sight so nimbly 
every time he turned round that it was impossible to 
follow their motions. At last the Dodger trod upon 
his toes or ran upon his hoot accidentally, while Charley 
Bates stumbled up against him behind; and in that one 
moment they took from him, with the most extraordi- 
nary rapidity, snuffbox, notecase, watch guard, chain, 
shirt pin, pocket handkerchief — even the spectacle case. 
If the gentleman felt a hand in any one of his pockets, 
he cried out where it was, and then the game began all 
over again. 

When this game had been played a great many 
times, a couple of young ladies — one of whom was named 
Bet and the other Nancy — called to see the young gen- 
tlemen. Being remarkably free and agreeable in their 
manners, Oliver thought them very nice girls, indeed. 

These visitors stopped a long time, and the conversa- 
tion took a very lively turn. At length Charley Bates 
expressed his opinion that it was time to pad the hoof. 
This, it occurred to Oliver, must be French for going 
out, for directly afterward the Dodger and Charley and 
the two young ladies went away together, having been 
kindly furnished by the amiable old Jew with money 
to spend. 

There, my dear,^^ said Fagin. ThaFs a pleasant 
life, isn’t it? They have gone out for the day.” 

Have th^y done work, sir?” inquired Oliver. 

^^Yes,” said the Jew; ^^that is, unless they should 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


69 


unexpectedly come across any when they are out^ and 
they won^t neglect it, if they do, my dear, depend 
upon it. Make ^em your models, my dear! Make ^em 
your models,^^ said the Jew, tapping the fire shovel on the 
hearth to add force to his words; do everything they 
bid you, and take their advice in all matters, especially 
the Dodger^s, my dear. Hefil be a great man himself, 
and will make you one, too, if you take pattern by him. 
Is my handkerchief hanging out of my pocket, my 
dear?^^ said the Jew, stopping short. 

^^Yes, sir,^^ said Oliver. 

See if you can take it out without my feeling it, 
as you saw them do when they were at play this morn- 
ing.^^ 

Oliver held up the bottom of the pocket with one 
hand, as he had seen the Dodger hold it, and drew the 
handkerchief out of it with the other. 

Is it gone ? cried the J ew. 

Here it is, sir,^^ said Oliver, showing it in his hand. 

Youhe a clever boy, my dear,^’ said the playful old 
gentleman, patting Oliver on the head approvingly. 
^^I never saw a sharper lad. Kerens a shilling for you.* 
If you can go on in this way youfil he the greatest man 
of the time. And now come here and Til show you 
how to take the marks out of the handkerchiefs.” 

Oliver wondered what picking the old gentleman^s 
pocket in play had to do with his chances of being a 
great man. But thinking that the Jew, ’being so much 
older, must know best, he followed him quietly to the 
table, and was soon deeply interested in his new study. 


CHAPTEE X. 


For many days Oliver remained in the Jew’s room, 
picking the marks out of the pocket handkerchiefs (of 
which a large number were brought home) and some- 
times taking part in the game already described, which 
the two boys and the Jew played regularly every morn- 
ing. At length he began to languish for fresh air, and 
took many occasions of earnestly begging the old gen- 
tleman to allow him to go out to work with his two 
companions. 

At length one morning Oliver obtained the permis- 
sion he had so eagerly sought. There had been no 
handkerchiefs to work upon for two or three days, and 
the dinners had been rather meager. Perhaps these 
were reasons for the old gentleman’s giving his assent, 
hut, whether they were or no, he told Oliver he might 
go with Charley Bates and his friend the Dodger. 

The three boys sallied out, the Dodger with his coat 
sleeves tucked up and his hat cocked as usual. Master 
Bates sauntering along with his hands in his pockets, 
and Oliver between them, wondering where they were 
going and what branch of manufacture he would he in- 
structed in first. 

The pace at which they went was such a very lazy, 
ill-looking saunter that Oliver soon began to think his 
companions were going to deceive the old gentleman 
by not going to work at all. 

60 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


61 


They were just emerging from a narrow court not 
far from the open square in Clerkenwell, which is yet 
called, by some strange perversion of terms, The 
Green,^^ when the Dodger made a sudden stop, and, 
laying his finger on his lip, drew his companions back 
again with the greatest caution. 

What’s the matter?” demanded Oliver. 

^^Hush!” replied the Dodger. Do you see that 
old cove at the bookstall ? ” ^ 

The old gentleman over the way?” said Oliver. 

Yes, I see him.” 

He’ll do,” said the Dodger. 

A prime plant,” observed Master Charley Bates. 

Oliver looked from one to the other with the great- 
est surprise; but he was not permitted to make any in- 
quiries, for the two boys walked stealthily across the 
road and slunk close behind the old gentleman toward 
whom his attention had been directed. Oliver walked 
a few paces after them, and, not knowing whether to 
advance or retire, stood looking on in silent amaze- 
ment. 

The old gentleman was a very respectable-looking 
personage, with a powdered head and gold spectacles. 
He was dressed in a bottle-green coat with a black vel- 
vet collar, wore white trousers, and carried a smart bam- 
boo cane under his arm. He had taken up a hook from 
the stall, and there he stood, reading away as hard as 
if he were in his elhowchair in his own study. 

What was Oliver’s horror and alarm as he stood a 
few paces off, looking on with his eyelids as wide open 
as they would possibly go, to see the Dodger plunge his 
hand into the old gentleman’s pocket and draw from 
thence a handkerchief! To see him hand the same to 
Charley Bates, and finally to behold them running away 
round the corner at full speed! 


62 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


In an instant the whole mystery of the handker- 
chiefs and the watches and the jewels and the Jew 
rushed upon the boy^s mind. He stood for a moment 
with the blood so tingling through all his veins from 
terror that he felt as if he were in a burning fire; then, 
confused and frightened, he took to his heels, and, not 
knowing what he did, made off as fast as he could lay 
his feet to the ground. 

This was all done in a minute^s space. In the very 
instant when Oliver began to run the old gentleman, 
putting his hand to his pocket and missing his handker- 
chief, turned sharp round. Seeing the hoy scudding 
away at such a rapid pace, he very naturally concluded 
him to he the depredator, and, shouting Stop thief! 
with all his might, made off after him, hook in hand. 

But the old gentleman was not the only person who 
raised the hue and cry. The Dodger and Master Bates, 
unwilling to attract public attention by running down 
the open street, had merely retired into the very first 
doorway round the corner. They no sooner heard the 
cry and saw Oliver running than, guessing exactly how 
the matter stood, they issued forth with great prompti- 
tude, and, shouting Stop thief! too, joined in the 
pursuit like good citizens. 

Stopped at last! A clever blow! He is down upon 
the pavement, and the crowd eagerly gather round him, 
each newcomer jostling and struggling wi^h the others 
to catch a glimpse. Stand aside! Givj^him a little 
air! ^^Honsense! he don’t deserve it!” ‘^Where’s 
the gentleman ? ” Here he is, coming down the 
street.” Make room there for the gentleman! ” Is 
this the boy, sir? ” Yes.” 

Oliver lay covered with mud and dust, and bleeding 
from the mouth, looking wildly round upon the many 
faces that surrounded him, when the old gentleman was 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


63 


dragged and pushed into the circle by the foremost of 
the pursuers. 

Yes/^ said the gentleman, I am afraid it is the 

hoy.” 

Afraid! ” murmured the crowd. That’s a good 
’un! ” 

^^Poor fellow!” said the gentleman; ^^he has hurt 
himself.” 

I did that, sir,” said a great lubberly fellow, step- 
ping forward; and preciously I cut my knickle agin’ 
his mouth. I stopped .him, sir.” 

Come, get up! ” said the man roughly. 

It wasn’t me, indeed, sir. Indeed, indeed, it was 
two other boys,” said Oliver. They are here some- 
where.” 

Oh, no, they ain’t,” said the officer, for the Dodger 
and Charley Bates had filed off down the first conven- 
ient court they came to. Come, get up! ” 

Don’t hurt him,” said the old gentleman compas- 
sionately. 

Oh, no, I won’t hurt him,” replied the officer, tear- 
his jacket half off his back in proof thereof. Come, I 
know you; it won’t do. Will you stand upon your legs, 
you young devil?” 

Oliver^ who coufe hardly stand, made a shift to raise 
himself on his fe^t, and was at once lugged along the 
streets by thq jacket collar at a rapid pace. The gentle- 
man walk^on with them by the officer’s side, and as 
many of the crowd as could achieve the feat got a little 
ahead and stared back at Oliver from time to time. The 
boys shouted in triumph, and on they went. 


6 


CHAPTER XI. 


The offense had been committed in the immediate 
neighborhood of a very well-known police officer. 

The crowd had only the satisfaction of accompany- 
ing Oliver through two or three streets and down a 
place called Mutton Hill, when he was led beneath a 
low archway and up a dirty court into a police* office. 
It was a small paved yard into which they turned, and 
here they met a stout man with a hunch of whiskers on 
his face and a bunch of keys in his hand. 

WhaPs the matter now?^^ said the man carelessly. 

A young thief,^^ replied the man who had Oliver in 
charge. 

Are you the party thaPs been robbed, sir? in- 
quired the man with the keys. 

Yes, I am,^^ replied the old gentleman, hut I 
am not sure that this hoy actually took the handker- 
chief. I — I would rather not press the case.^^ 

Must go before the magistrate now, sir,^’ replied 
the man. His worship will he disengaged in half a 
minute. Xow, young gallows! ’’ 

This was an invitation for Oliver to enter through 
a door which he unlocked as he spoke, and which led 
into a stone cell. Here he was searched, and, nothing 
being found upon him, locked up. 

The cell was in shape and size something like a 
cellar, only not so light. It was dreadfully dirty, for it 
64 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


65 


was Monday morning, and it had been occupied by six 
drunken people who bad been locked up elsewhere since 
Saturday night. 

The old gentleman looked almost as distressed as 
Oliver when the key grated in the lock. He turned 
with a sigh to the book which had been the innocent 
cause of all this disturbance. 

There is something in that boy’s face/’ said the 
old gentleman to himself as he walked slowly away, 
tapping his chin with the cover of the book in a 
thoughtful manner — something that touches and in- 
terests me. Can he be innocent? He looked like 

By the bye! ” exclaimed the old gentleman, halting very 
abruptly and staring up into the sky. Bless my souL! 
where have I seen som’ething like that before ? ” 

He was roused by a touch on the shoulder, and a re- 
quest from the man with the keys to follow him into 
the office. 

The office was a , front parlor, with a paneled wall. 
Mr. Fang sat behind a bar at the upper end, and on 
one side of the door was a sort of wooden pen in which 
poor little Oliver was already placed, trembling very 
much at the awfulness of the scene. 

Mr. Fang was a lean, long-backed, stiff-necked, 
middle-sized man, with no great quantity of hair, and 
what he had growing on the back and sides of his head. 
His face was stern and much flushed. 

The old gentleman bowed respectfully, and, advanc- 
ing to the magistrate’s desk, said, giving him a card. 
That is my name and address, sir.” He then with- 
drew a pace or two, and, with another polite and gentle- 
manly inclination of the head, waited to be questioned. 

How, it so happened that Mr. Fang was at that mo- 
ment out of temper, and he looked up with an angry 
scowl. 


66 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


^^Who are you?^^ said Mr. Fang. 

The old gentleman pointed^ with some surprise, to 
his card. 

Officer! said Mr. Fang, tossing the card con- 
temptuously away with the newspaper, who is this 
fellow? 

The policeman related how he had taken the charge, 
how he had searched Oliver and found nothing on his 
person, and how that was all he knew about it. 

Are there any . witnesses ? inquired Mr. Fang. 

None, your worship,” replied the policeman. 

Mr. Fang sat silent for some minutes, and then, 
turning round to the prosecutor, said in a towering pas- 
sion: 

Do you mean to state what' your complaint against 
this boy is, man, or do you not? You have been 
sworn. Now, if you stand there refusing to give evi- 
dence, Vll punish you for disrespect to the bench. I 
will! ” 

With 'many interruptions and repeated insults, Mr. 
Brownlow contrived to state his case, saying that, in 
the surprise of the moment, he had run after the boy 
because he saw him running away, and expressing his 
hope that the magistrate would deal as gently with him 
as justice would allow. 

^^He^s been hurt already,” said the old gentleman 
in conclusion. And I fear,” he added, with great en- 
ergy, looking toward the bar, I really fear that he is 
ill.” 

Oh, yes, I dare say! ” said Mr. Fang, with a sneer. 

Come, none of your tricks here, you young vagabond; 
they won’t do. What’s your name ? ” 

Oliver tried to reply, but his tongue failed him. He 
was deadly pale, and the whole place seemed turning 
round and round. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


67 


What^s your name, you hardened rascal?’^ de- 
manded Mr. Fang. Officer, whaFs his name? 

This was addressed to a bluff fellow in a striped 
waistcoat, who was standing by the bar. He bent over 
Oliver and repeated the inquiry; but finding him really 
unable to understand the question, and knowing that 
his not replying would only infuriate the magistrate 
more and add to the severity of his sentence, he risked 
a guess. . 

He says his name’s' Tom White, your worship,” 
said the kind-hearted thief -taker. 

Oh, he won’t speak out, won’t he? ” said Fang. 

Very well, very well. Where does he live? ” 

Where he can, your worship,” replied the officer, 
again pretending to receive Oliver’s answer. 

Has he any parents? ” inquired Mr. Fang. 

He says they died in his infancy, your worship,” 
replied the officer, hazarding the usual reply. 

At this point of the inquiry Oliver raised his head, 
and, looking round with imploring eyes, murmured a 
feeble prayer for a drink of water. 

Stuff and nonsense! ” said Mr. Fang. Don’t try 
to make a fool of me.” 

I think he is really ill, your worship,” urged the 
officer. 

I know better,” said Mr. Fang. 

Take care of him, officer,” said the old gentle- 
man, raising his hands instinctively; he’ll fall 
down.” 

Stand away, officer,” cried Fang; let him, if he 
likes.” 

Oliver availed himself of the kind permission, and 
fell to the floor in a fainting fit. The men in the office 
looked at each other, but no one dared to stir. 

knew he was shamming,” said Fang, as if this 


68 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


were proof of the fact. Let him lie there; he’ll soon 
be tired of that.” 

How do you propose to deal with the case, sir? ” 
inquired the clerk in a low voice. 

Summarily,” replied Mr. Fang. He stands com- 
mitted for three months — hard labor, of course. Clear 
the office.” 

The door was opened for this purpose and a couple 
of men were preparing to carry the unconscious hoy to 
his cell when an elderly man, of decent but poor ap- 
pearance, clad in an old suit of black, rushed hastily 
into the office, and advanced toward the bench. 

Stop, stop! Don’t take him away! For Heaven’s 
sake, stop a moment! ” cried the newcomer, breathless 
with haste. 

Mr. Fang was not a little indignant to see an unin- 
vited guest enter in such disrespectful disorder. 

^^What is this? Who is this? Turn this man out! 
Clear the office! ” cried Mr. Fang. 

I will speak,” cried the man; I will not be turned 
out. I saw it all. I keep the bookstall. I demand to 
be sworn. I will not he put down. Mr. Fang, you must 
hear me. You must not refuse, sir.” 

The man was right. His manner was determined, 
and the matter was growing rather too serious to he 
hushed up. 

Swear the man,” growled Mr. Fang, with a very 
ill grace. Now, man, what have you got to say? ” 

This,” said the man; I saw three hoys — two 
others and the prisoner here — loitering on the opposite 
side of the way when this gentleman was reading. The 
robbery was committed by another hoy. I saw it done, 
and I saw that this hoy was perfectly amazed and stupe- 
fied by it.” Having by this time recovered a little 
breath, the worthy bookstall keeper proceeded to relate 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


69 


in a more connected manner the exact circumstance of 
the robbery. 

^^Why didn^t you come here before? said Fang, 
after a pause. 

I hadn^t a soul to mind the shop,^^ replied the 
man. Everybody who could have helped me had 
joined in the pursuit. I could get nobody till five min- 
utes ago, and I’ve run here all the way.” 

The prosecutor was reading, was he? ” inquired 
Fang, after another pause. 

Yes,” replied the man. The very book he has in 
his hand.” 

Oh, that book, eh?” asked Fang. Is it paid 
for? ” 

Yo, it is not,” replied the man, with a smile. 

Dear me, I forgot all about it! ” exclaimed the 
absent-minded old gentleman innocently. 

A nice person to prefer a charge against a poor 
hoy! ” said Fang, with a comical effort to look kind. 

I consider, sir, that you have got possession of the 
book under very suspicious circumstances. Let this be 
a lesson to you, my man, or the law will overtake you 
yet. The boy is discharged. Clear the office! ” 

The command was obeyed, aiid the indignant Mr. 
Brownlow was conveyed out, with the hook in one hand 
and the bamboo cane in the other, in a state of rage and 
defiance. He reached the yard, and his passion van- 
ished in a moment. Little Oliver Twist lay on his hack 
on the pavement, with his shirt unbuttoned and his 
temples bathed with water, his face was deadly white, 
and a cold tremble convulsing his whole frame. 

Poor boy, poor boy! ” said Mr. Brownlow, bend- 
ing over him. Call a coach, somebody, pray. Di- 
rectly! ” 

A coach was obtained, and Oliver, having been care- 


70 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


fully laid on one seat, the old gentleman got in and sat 
himself on the other. 

^^May I go with you?^^ said the bookstall keeper, 
looking in. 

Bless me! yes, my dear sir,’^ said Mr. Brownlow 
quickly. I forgot you. Dear, dear! I have this un- 
happy hook still! Jump in. Poor fellow! there’s no 
time to lose.” 

The bookstall keeper got into the coach, and away 
they drove. 


CHAPTER XII. 


The coach rattled away over nearly the same ground 
as that which Oliver had traversed when he first en- 
tered London in company with the Dodger, and, turn- 
ing a different way when it reached the Angel at Isling- 
ton, stopped at length before a neat house in a quiet, 
shady street near Pentonville. Here a bed was pre- 
pared without loss of time, in which Mr. Brownlow saw 
his young charge carefully and comfortably deposited, 
and here he was tended with a kind solicitude that 
knew no bounds. 

But for many days Oliver remained insensible to all 
the goodness of his new friends. The sun rose and 
sank and rose and sank again, and many times after 
that, and still the boy lay stretched on his uneasy bed, 
dwindling away beneath the dry and wasting heat of 
fever. 

Weak and thin and pallid, he awoke at last from 
what seemed to have been a long and troubled dream. 
Feebly raising himself in bed, with his head resting on 
his trembling arm, he looked anxiously around. 

^^What room is this? Where have I been brought 
to ? said Oliver. This is not the place I went to 
sleep in.^^ 

He uttered these words in a feeble voice, being very 
faint and weak, but they were overheard at once. The 
curtain at the bed^s head was hastily drawn back, and a 
71 


72 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWI^. 


motherly old lady^ very neatly and precisely dressed, 
rose, as she undrew it, from an armchair close by, in 
which she had been sitting at needlework. 

Hush, my dear,^’ said the old lady softly. You 
must be very quiet or you will he ill again, and you 
have been very bad — as bad as bad could be, pretty 
nigh. Lie down again, there’s a dear! ” With those 
words the old lady very gently placed Oliver’s head 
upon the pillow, and, smoothing hack his hair from his 
forehead, looked so kind and lovingly into his face that 
he could not help placing his little withered hand in 
hers and drawing it round his neck. 

Save us! ” said the old lady, with tears in her 
eyes; what a grateful little dear it is! Pretty crea- 
ture! What would his mother feel if she had sat by 
him as I have and could see him now?” 

Perhaps she does see me,” whispered Oliver, fold- 
ing his hands together — perhaps she sat by me. I 
almost feel as if she had.” 

That was the fever, my dear,” said the old lady 
mildly. 

I suppose it was,” replied Oliver, because Heaven 
is a long way off, and they are too happy there to come 
down to the bedside of a poor boy.” 

The old lady made no reply to this, hut, wiping her 
tears first, and her spectacles which lay on the counter- 
pane afterward, as if they were part and parcel of those 
features, brought some cool stuff for Oliver to drink; 
and then, patting him on the cheek, told him he must 
lie very quiet or he would be ill again. 

So Oliver kept very still, partly because he was anx- 
ious to obey the kind old lady in all things, and partly, 
to tell the truth, because he was completely exhausted 
with what he had already said. He soon fell into a 
gentle doze, from which he was awakened by the light 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


73 


of a candle^ which, being brought near the bed, showed 
him a gentleman with a very large and loud-ticking 
gold watch in his hand, who felt his pulse and said he 
was a great deal better. 

^^You are a great deal better, are you not, my 
dear?^^ said the old gentleman. 

Yes, thank you, sir,” replied Oliver. 

Yes, I know you are,” said the gentleman. ^^Y'ouhe 
hungry, too, ain^t you? ” 

Yo, sir,” answered Oliver. 

Hem! ” said the gentleman. Ho, I know you Ye 
not. He is not hungry, Mrs. Bedwin,” said the gentle- 
man, looking very wise. 

The old lady made a respectful inclination of the 
head, which seemed to say that she thought the doctor 
a very clever man. The doctor appeared much of the 
same opinion himself. 

‘^You feel sleepy, don’t you, my dear?” said the 
doctor. 

Ho, sir,” replied Oliver. 

Ho,” said the doctor, with a shrewd and satisfied 
look. You are not sleepy. Hor thirsty, are you? ” 

Yes, sir, rather thirsty,” answered Oliver. 

Just as I expected, Mrs. Bedwin,” said the doctor. 

It’s very natural that he should he thirsty. You may 
give him a little tea, ma’am, and some dry toast with- 
out any butter. Don’t keep him too warm, ma’am, hut 
be careful that you don’t let him he too cold. Will 
you have the goodness? ” 

Oliver dozed off again soon after this; when he 
awoke it was nearly twelve o’clock. The old lady ten- 
derly bade him good night shortly afterward, and left 
him in charge of a fat old woman who had just come, 
bringing with her, in a little bundle, a small prayer 
book and a large nightcap. Putting the latter on her 


74 


THE STOEY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


head and the former on the table, the old woman, after 
telling Oliver that she had come to sit up with him, 
drew her chair close to the fire and went off into a series 
of short naps, checkered at frequent intervals with 
sundry tumblings forward and divers moans and chok- 
ings. These, however, had no worse effect than caus- 
ing her to rub her nose very hard, and then fall asleep 
again. 

And thus the night crept slowly on. Oliver lay 
awake for some time, counting the little circles of light 
which the reflection of the rushlight shade threw upon 
the ceiling, or tracing with his languid eyes the intricate 
pattern of the paper on the wall. The darkness and the 
deep stillness of the room were very solemn, as they 
brought into the boy’s mind the thought that Death had 
been hovering there for many days and nights, and 
might yet fill it with the gloom and dread of his awful 
presence; he turned his face upon the pillow, and fer- 
vently prayed to Heaven. 

Gradually he fell into that deep tranquil sleep which 
ease from recent suffering alone imparts — that calm 
and peaceful rest from which it is pain to wake. 

It had been bright day for hours when Oliver opened 
his eyes; he felt cheerful and happy. The crisis of 
the disease was safely past. He belonged to the world 
again. 

In three days’ time he was able to sit in an easy- 
chair, well propped up with pillows; and, as he was still 
too weak to walk, Mrs. Bedwin had him carried down- 
stairs into the little housekeeper’s room, which belonged 
to her. Having set him here by the fireside, the good 
old lady sat herself down too, and, being in a state of 
considerable delight at seeing him so much better, 
forthwith began to cry almost violently. 

Never mind me, my dear,” said the old lady. I’m 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Y5 


only having a regular good cry. There! it’s all over 
now, and I’m quite comfortable.” 

You’re very, very, kind to me, ma’am,” said 
Oliver. 

Well, never you mind that, my dear,” said the old 
lady; that’s got nothing to do with your broth, and 
it’s full time you had it, for the doctor says Mr. Brown- 
low may come in to see you this morning, and we must 
get up our best looks, because the better we look the 
more he’ll be pleased. Are you fond of pictures, dear? ” 
inquired the old lady, seeing that Oliver had fixed his 
eyes most intently on a portrait which hung against the 
wall just opposite his chair. 

‘‘1 don’t quite know, ma’am,” said Oliver, without 
taking his eyes from the canvas; I have seen so very 
few that I hardly know. What a beautiful, mild face 
that lady’s is! ” 

^^Ah!” said the old lady, painters always makes 
ladies out prettier than they are or they wouldn’t get 
any custom, child.” 

Is — is that a likeness, ma’am? ” said Oliver. 

Yes,” said the old lady, looking up for a moment 
from the broth, that’s a portrait.” 

Whose, ma’am?” asked Oliver. 

^^Why, really, my dear, I don’t know,” answered 
the lady, in a good-humored manner. It’s not a like- 
ness of anybody that you or I know, I expect. It seems 
to strike your fancy, dear.” 

It is so very pretty,” replied Oliver. 

^^Why, sure you’re not afraid of it?” said the old 
lady, observing in great surprise the look of awe with 
which the child regarded the painting. . 

Oh, no, no, no!” returned Oliver quickly; ^^hut 
the eyes look so sorrowful, and where I sit they seem 
fixed upon me. It makes my heart beat,” added Oliver 


76 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


in a low voice, as if it were alive and wanted to speak 
to me, but couldn^t.^’ 

There came a soft rap at the door. Come in,’^ 
said the old lady, and in walked Mr. Brownlow. 

Poor boy! poor boy! said Mr. Brownlow, clear- 
ing his throat. How do you feel, my dear? 

^^Yery happy, sir,^^ replied Oliver. And very 
grateful, indeed, sir, for your goodness to me.^’ 

Good boy,^^ said Mr. Brownlow stoutly. Have 
you given him any nourishment, Bedwin ? 

He has just had a basin of beautiful strong broth, 

sir.^^ 

^^Ugh!” said Mr. Brownlow, with a slight shud- 
der; a couple of glasses of port wine would have done 
him a great deal more good. WouldnT they, Tom 
White, eh?’^ 

My name is Oliver, sir,^^ replied the little invalid, 
with a look of great astonishment. 

Oliver,’^ said Mr. Brownlow — Oliver what ? Oli- 
ver White, eh? 

No, sir, Twist — Oliver Twist.^’ 

Queer name,^^ said the old gentleman. What 
made you tell the magistrate your name was White ? ’’ 

I never told him so, sir,^^ returned Oliver in 
amazement.. 

This sounded so like a falsehood that the old gen- 
tleman looked somewhat sternly in Olivers face. It 
was impossible to doubt him; there was truth in every 
line of his honest face. 

Some mistake,’^ said Mr. Brownlow. 

I hope you are not angry with me, sir? said Oli- 
ver, raising his eyes beseechingly. 

No, no,^^ replied the old gentleman. Wh}^, what’s 
this? Bedwin, look here! ” 

As he spoke he pointed hastily to the picture above 














i '. ^ ^ 



THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


77 


Oliver’s head and then to the boy’s face. There was its 
living copy. . The eyes^ the head, the mouth — every 
feature was the same. The expression was, for the in- 
stant, so precisely alike that the minutest line seemed 
copied with startling accuracy! Oliver knew not the 
cause of this sudden exclamation, for, not being strong 
enough to bear the start it gave him, he fainted 
away. 

This weakness on his part affords us the opportu- 
nity of recording what had befallen the Dodger and his 
accomplice and friend, Charley Bates. 

It was not until the two hoys had scoured with great 
rapidity through a most intricate maze of narrow streets 
and courts that they ventured to halt beneath a low and 
dark archway. Having remained silent here just long 
enough to recover breath to speak. Master Bates uttered 
an expression of amusement and delight, and, bursting 
into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, flung himself 
upon a doorstep and rolled thereon in a transport of 
mirth. 

What’s the matter? ” inquired the Dodger. 

^^Ha! ha! ha!” roared Charley Bates. 

Hold your noise!” said the Dodger, looking cau- 
tiously round. Do you want to be grabbed, stupid?” 

I can’t help it,” said Charley; I can’t help it. 
To see him splitting away at that pace, and cutting 
round the corners, and knocking up against posts, and 
starting on again as if he was made of iron as well as 
them, and me with the wipe in my pocket singing out 
arter him — oh, my eye! ” 

What’ll Fagin say? ” inquired the Dodger. 

^^What?” replied Charley Bates. 

Ah! what?” said the Dodger. 

^^Why, what would he say?” inquired Charley, 
stopping rather suddenly in his merriment, for the 


78 the story of OLIVER TWIST. 

Dodger’s manner was impressive. ^^What should he 
say?” 

The noise of footsteps on the creaking stairs a few 
minutes after the occurrence of this conversation roused 
the merry old gentleman as he sat over the fire with a 
small loaf in his left hand, a pocketknife in his right, 
and a pewter pot on the table. There was a rascally 
smile on his white face as he turned round, and, looking 
sharply out from under his red eyebrows, bent his ear 
toward the door and listened. 

Why, how’s this? ” muttered the Jew, changing 
countenance; only two of ’em. Where’s the third? 
They can’t have got into trouble. Hark! ” 

The footsteps approached nearer, they reached the 
landing, the door was slowly opened, and the Dodger 
and Charley Bates entered, closing it behind them. 


CHAPTEE XIII. 


^^Wheke^s Oliver? said the furious Jew, rising 
with a threatening look. Whereas the hoy? ’^ 

The young thieves eyed their teacher as if they were 
alarmed at his violence, and looked uneasily at each 
other. But* they made no reply. 

^^WhaEs become of the boy?^^ said the Jew, seiz- 
ing the Dodger tightly by the collar, and threatening 
him with horrid oaths. Speak out or Idl choke you! 

Mr. Fagin looked so very much in earnest that 
Charley Bates dropped upon his knees and raised a loud, 
well-sustained, and continuous roar — something be- 
tween a mad bull and a speaking trumpet. 

Will you speak? thundered the Jew, shaking the 
Dodger so much that his keeping in the big coat at all 
seemed perfectly miraculous. 

Why, the traps have got him, and thaPs all about 
iV^ said the Dodger sullenly. Come, let go o^ me, 
will you! and, swinging himself at one jerk clean out 
of the big coat, which he left in the Jew^s hands, the 
Dodger snatched up the toasting fork and made a pass 
at the merry old gentleman^s waistcoat, which if it had 
taken effect would have let a little more merriment 
out than could have been easily replaced in a month or 
two. 

The Jew stepped hack with more quickness than 
could have been expected in a man of his age, and seiz- 
7 79 


80 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


ing up the pot, prepared to hurl it at his assailant^s 
head. But Charley Bates at this moment calling his 
attention by a perfectly terrific howl, he suddenly 
changed his mind, and flung it full at that young gen-, 
tleman. 

Why, what the blazes is in the wind now! 
growled a deep voice. Who pitched that ’ere at me? 
It’s well it’s the beer and not the pot as hit me, or 
I’d have settled somebody. I might have know’d as 
nobody hut a rich, plundering, thundering old Jew 
could afford to throw away any drink but water. What’s 
it all about, Fagin? My neck-handhercher is all lined 
with beer! Come in, you sneaking warmint; wot are 
you stopping outside for, as if you was ashamed of your 
master? Come in! ” 

The man who growled out these words was a stoutly 
built fellow of about five-and-thirty, in a black vel- 
veteen coat, very soiled drab breeches, laced-up half- 
boots, and gray cotton stockings, which inclosed a bulky 
pair of legs. He had a brown hat on his head and a dirty 
handkerchief round his neck, with the long frayed ends 
of which he smeared the beer from his face as he spoke. 
He disclosed, when he had done so, a broad, heavy coun- 
tenance, with a beard of three days’ growth, and two 
scowling eyes, one of which looked as if it had been re- 
cently damaged by a blow. 

Come in, d’ye hear? ” growded this ruffian. 

A white shaggy dog, with his face scratched and 
torn in twenty different places, skulked into the room. 

Why didn’t you come in afore ? ” said the man. 

You’re getting too proud to own me afore company, 
are you? Lie down! ” 

This command was accompanied with a kick, which 
sent the animal to the other end of the room. 

^^What are you up to? Ill-treating the boys, you 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


81 


miserly, greedy old fence ? said the man, seating him- 
self deliberately. I wonder they donh murder you! 
I would, if I was them. If I^d been your ^prentice Fd 
have done it long ago! 

‘^‘^Hush! hush! Mr. Sikes,’^ said the Jew, trembling; 
donh speak so loud.^^ 

None of your mistering,^^ replied the ruffian; you 
always mean mischief when you come that. You know 
my name; out with it! I shaffit disgrace it when the 
time comes.^^ 

Well, well, then — Bill Sikes,’^ said the Jew, with 
great humility. Y'ou seem out of humor, Bill.^^ 

Perhaps I am,^^ replied Sikes; should think 
you was rather out of sorts, too, unless you mean as 
little harm when you throw pewter pots about as you 
do when you blab 

^^Are you mad?’’ said the Jew, catching the man 
by the sleeve and pointing toward the boys. 

Mr. Sikes contented himself with demanding a glass 
of liquor. 

And mind you don’t poison it,’’ he said, laying his 
hat upon the table. 

This was said in jest, but if the speaker could have 
seen the evil leer with which the Jew bit his pale lip 
as he turned round to the cupboard, he might have 
thought the caution not wholly unnecessary. 

After swallowing two or three glasses of spirits, Mr. 
Sikes condescended to take some notice of the young 
gentlemen, which gracious act led to a conversation, in 
which the cause and manner of Oliver’s capture were 
fully described with such alterations and improvements 
on the truth as to the Dodger appeared wise under the 
circumstances. 

I’m afraid,” said the Jew, that he may say some- 
thing which will get us into trouble.” 


82 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


That’s very litjely/’ returned Sikes with a spite- 
ful grin. You’re Mowed upon, Fagin.” 

And I’m afraid, you see,” added the J ew, speaking 
as if he had not noticed the interruption, and regard- 
ing the other closely as he did so — I’m afraid that, 
if the game was up with us, it might be up with a good 
many more, and that it would come out rather worse 
for you than it would for me, my dear.” 

The man started, and turned round upon the Jew. 
But the old gentleman’s shoulders were shrugged up to 
his ears, and his eyes were vacantly staring at the oppo- 
site wall. 

There was a long pause. Every member of the party 
appeared plunged in his owm thoughts, not excepting 
the dog, who, by a certain malicious licking of his lips, 
seemed to be planning an attack upon the legs of the 
first gentleman or lady he might meet in the streets 
when he went out. 

Somebody must find out wot’s been done at the 
office,” said Mr. Sikes, in a much lower tone than he 
had taken since he came in. 

The Jew nodded assent. 

If he hasn’t peached and is committed, there’s no 
fear till he comes out again,” said Mr. Sikes, and then 
he must he taken care on. You must get hold of him 
somehow.” 

Again the Jew nodded. 

The prudence of this line of action, indeed, was 
plain, hut, unfortunately, there was one ver}^ strong 
objection to its being adopted. This was that the 
Dodger and Charley Bates and Fagin and Mr. William 
Sikes happened, one and all, to have a violently and 
deeply rooted dislike to going near a police officer on 
any excuse whatever. 

How long they might have sat and looked at each 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


83 


other^ in a state of uncertainty not the most pleasant of 
its kind, it is difficult to guess. It is unnecessary to 
make any guesses on the subject, however, for the sud- 
den entrance of the young ladies whom Oliver had seen 
on a former occasion caused the conversation to flow 
afresh. 

The very thing! said the Jew. Bet will go, 
wonT you, my dear?^^ 

Wheres? inquired the young lady. 

Only just up to the office, my dear,’^ said the Jew 
coaxingly. 

The young lady expressed an emphatic and earnest 
desire not to go, and the Jew’s countennce fell. He 
turned from this young lady, who was gayly, not to say 
gorgeously, attired in a red gown, green boots, and yellow 
curl papers, to the other woman. 

Haney, my dear,” said the Jew, in a soothing man- 
ner, what do you say? ” 

That it won’t do! so it’s no use a-trying it on, 
Fagin,” replied Haney. 

What do you mean by that? ” said Mr. Sikes, look- 
ing up in a surly manner. 

What I say. Bill,” replied the lady collectedly. 

Why, you’re just the very person for it,” reasoned 
Mr. Sikes; nobody about here knows anything of 
you.” 

And as I don’t want ’em to, neither,” replied 
Haney in the same composed manner, it’s rather more 
no than yes with me. Bill.” 

She’ll go, Fagin,” said Sikes. 

Ho, she won’t, Fagin,” said Haney. 

Yes, she will, Fagin,” said Sikes. 

And Mr. Sikes was right. By means of threats, 
promises, and bribes, the lady in question was finally 
persuaded to undertake the commission. 


84 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Accordingly, mth a clean white apron tied over her 
gown, and her cnrl papers tucked up under a straw 
bonnet — both articles of dress being provided from the 
Jew^s inexhaustible stock — Miss Nancy prepared to go 
forth on her errand. 

Stop a minute, my dear,^^ said the Jew, producing 
a little covered basket. Carry that in one hand. It 
looks more respectable, my dear.^^ 

Give her a door key to carry in her toother one, 
Fagin,^^ said Sikes; it looks real and genivine like.^^ 

Yes, yes, my dear, so it does,^^ said the Jew, hang- 
ing a large street-door key on the forefinger of the 
young lady’s right hand. There, very good! Very 
good, indeed, my dear! ” said the Jew, rubbing his 
hands. 

Oh, my brother! my poor, dear, sweet, innocent, 
little brother! ” exclaimed Nancy, bursting into tears 
and wringing the little basket and the street-door key 
in an agony of distress. What has become of him? 
Where have they taken him to? Oh, do have pity, and 
tell me what’s been done with the dear boy, gentlemen; 
do, gentlemen, if you please, gentlemen! ” 

Having uttered these words in a most lamentable 
and heartbroken tone, to the extreme delight of her 
hearers. Miss Nancy paused, winked to the company, 
nodded smilingly round, and disappeared. 

^^Ah! she’s a clever girl, my dears,” said the Jew. 

She’s an honor to her sex,” said Mr. Sikes, filling 
his glass and smiting the table with his enormous fist. 

Here’s her health, and wishing they all was like her! ” 
While these and many other praises were being 
passed on the accomplished Nancy, that 3^oung lady 
made the best of her way to the police office, where she 
arrived in perfect safety shortly afterward. 

Entering by the back way, she tapped softly with 


THE STORY OB OLIVER TWIST. 


85 


the key at one of the cell doors and listened. There was 
no sound within^ so she coughed and listened again. 
Still there was no reply^ so she spoke. 

Nolly, dear? murmured Nancy in a gentle voice; 

Nolly? 

. ^^Well?^^ cried a faint and feeble voice. 

there a boy here?^^ inquired Nancy, with a 

sob. 

No,^^ replied the voice; God forbid! 

This was a vagrant of sixty-five, who was going to 
prison for begging in the streets and doing nothing for 
his livelihood. In the next cell was another man, who 
was going to the same prison for selling a tin saucepan 
without a license; but, as neither of these' criminals 
answered to the name of Oliver, or knew anything about 
him, Nancy made straight up to the officer in the striped 
waistcoat, and, with the most piteous wailings and 
lamentations, rendered more piteously by the prompt 
use of the street-door key and the little basket, de- 
manded her own dear brother. 

I havenh got him, my dear,’’ said the old man. 

Where is he?” screamed Nancy, in a distracted 
manner. 

Why, the gentleman’s got him,” replied the officer. 

‘^What gentleman? Oh, gracious heavens! what 
gentleman?” exclaimed Nancy. 

In reply to this frantic questioning, the old man 
informed the deeply afflicted sister that Oliver had been 
taken ill in the office and discharged because a witness 
had proved the robbery to have been committed by an- 
other boy, who had not been arrested, and that the 
prosecutor had carried him away, in an insensible con- 
dition, to his own house, which was probably somewhere 
in Pentonville, that word having been mentioned in 
the directions to the coachman. 


86 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


In a dreadful state of doubt and uncertainty, the 
agonized young woman staggered to the gate, and then, 
exchanging her faltering walk for a good, swift, steady 
run, returned by the most roundabout route she could 
think of to the lodging of the Jew. 

Mr. Bill Sikes no sooner heard the account of the 
expedition than he very hastily called up the white dog, 
and, putting on his hat, promptly departed, without 
wishing the company good morning. 

We must know where he is, my dears; he must he 
f ound,^^ said the J ew, greatly excited. Charley, do 
nothing but skulk about till you bring home some news 
of him! Xancy, my dear, I must have him found. I 
trust to you, my dear — to you and the Artful to do 
everything! Stay, stay! added the Jew, unlocking a 
drawer with a shaking hand; there^s money, my dears. 
I shall shut up this shop to-night. You’ll know where 
to find me. Don’t stop here a minute — not an instant, 
my dears! ” 

With these words, he pushed them from the room, 
and, carefully double locking and barring the door be- 
hind them, drew from its place of concealment the box 
which had been seen by Oliver. Then he hastily pro- 
ceeded to hide the watches and jewelry beneath his 
clothing. 

A rap at the door startled him in his occupation. 

Who’s there ? ” he cried in a shrill voice. 

Me! ” replied the voice of the Dodger through the 
keyhole. 

‘^^What now?” cried the Jew impatiently. 

Is he to be kidnaped to the other ken? Nancy 
says,” inquired the Dodger. 

^‘^YYs,” replied the Jew, ^Svherever she lays hands 
on him. Find him, find him out, that’s all! I shall 
know what to do next, never fear.” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


87 


The boy replied that he understood, and hurried 
downstairs after his companions. 

He has not peached so far/^ said the Jew, as he 
pursued his occupation. If he means to blah us among 
his new friends, we may stop his mouth yet.^^ 


CHAPTEE XIV. 


They were happy days, those of Oliver’s recovery. 
Everything was so quiet and neat and orderly; every- 
body was kind and gentle. He was no sooner strong 
enough to put his clothes on properly than Mr. Brown- 
low caused a complete new suit and a new cap and a 
new pair of shoes to be provided for him. As Oliver 
was told that he might do what he liked with the old 
clothes, he gave them to a servant who had been very 
kind to him, and asked her to sell them to a Jew and 
keep the money for herself. This she very readily did, 
and as Oliver looked out of the parlor window and 
saw the Jew roll them up in his bag and walk away, 
he felt delighted to think that they were safely gone, 
and that there was now no possible danger of his ever 
being able to wear them again. They were sad rags, to 
tell the truth, and Oliver had never had a new suit be- 
fore. 

One evening, about a week after the affair of the 
picture, as he was sitting talking to Mrs. Bedwin, there 
came a message from Mr. Brownlow that, if Oliver felt 
pretty well, he should like to see him in his study and 
talk to him a little while. 

Bless us and save us! Wash your hands, and let 
me part your hair nicely for you, child,” said Mrs. Bed- 
win. ^^Dear heart alive! If I had known he would 
have asked for you; we would have put you a clean 
collar on and made you as smart as a sixpence! ” 

88 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


89 


Oliver soon tapped at the study door. On Mr. 
Brownlow calling to him to come in, he found himself 
in a little back room quite full of books, with a window 
looking into some pleasant little gardens. There was a 
table drawn up before the window, at which Mr. Brown- 
low was seated reading. TVhen he saw Oliver, he pushed 
the book away from him, and told him to come near the 
table and sit down. 

There are a good many books, are there not, my 
boy?^^ said Mr. Brownlow, observing the curiosity with 
which Oliver surveyed the shelves that reached from 
the floor to the ceiling. 

A great number, sir,^^ replied Oliver. I never 
saw so many.^^ 

Y^ou shall read them, if you behave well,^^ said the 
old gentleman kindly; and you will like that better 
than looking at the outsides. ^N’ow,’^ said he, speaking if 
possible in a kinder but at the same time in a much 
more serious manner than Oliver had ever known him 
to assume yet, I want you to pay great attention, my 
boy, to what I am going to say. I shall talk to you 
without any reserve, because I am sure you are as well 
able to understand me as many older persons would be.^^ 

Oh, don’t tell me you are going to send me away, 
sir, pray! ” exclaimed Oliver, alarmed at the serious 
tone of the old gentleman’s commencement. Don’t 
turn me out of doors to wander in the streets again. 
Let me stay here and be a servant. Don’t send me back 
to the wretched place I came from. Have mercy upon 
a poor boy, sir! ” 

My dear child,” said the old gentleman, moved by 
the warmth of Oliver’s sudden appeal, 3'Ou need not 
be afraid of my deserting you unless you give me cause.” 

I never, never will, sir,” interposed Oliver. 

I hope not,” rejoined the old gentleman. I do 


90 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


not think you ever will. I feel strongly disposed to 
trust you, and I am more interested in your behalf than 
I can well account for, even to myself. You say you are 
an orphan, without a friend in the world. Let me hear 
your story — where you come from, who brought you up, 
and how you got into the company in which I found you. 
Speak the truth, and you shall not be friendless while I 
live.^^ 

Oliver^s sobs checked his utterance for some min- 
utes; when he was on the point of beginning to relate 
how he had been brought up at the farm, and carried 
to the workhouse by Mr. Bumble, a peculiarly impa- 
tient little double knock was heard on the street door, 
and the servant, running upstairs, announced Mr. 
Grimwig. 

Is he coming up ? inquired Mr. Brownlow. 

^ Yes, sir,^^ replied the servant. He asked if there 
were any muffins in the house, and when I told him 
yes he said he had come to tea.’^ 

Mr. Brownlow, smiled, and turning to Oliver said 
that Mr. Grimwig was an old friend of his, and he must 
not mind his being a little rough in his manners, for 
he was a worthy creature, as he had reason to know. 

Shall I go downstairs, sir? inquired Oliver. 

replied Mr. Brownlow, 1 would rather you 
remained here.^^ 

At this moment there walked into the room, sup- 
porting himself by a thick stick, a stout old gentleman, 
rather lame in one leg, wffio was dressed in a blue coat, 
striped waistcoat, nankeen breeches and gaiters, and a 
broad-brimmed white hat, with the sides turned up with 
green. A very small plaited shirt frill stuck out from 
his waistcoat, and a very long steel watch chain, with 
nothing but a key at the end, dangled loosely below it. 
The ends of his white neckerchief were twisted into a 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


91 


ball about the size of an orange; the variety of shapes 
into which his countenance was twisted defy descrip- 
tion. He had a manner of screwing his head on one 
side when he spoke and of looking out of the corners of 
his eyes at the same time^ which irresistibly reminded 
the beholders of a parrot. In this attitude he fixed him- 
self the moment he made his appearance, and, holding 
out a small piece of orange peel at arm’s length, ex- 
claimed in a growling, discontented voice: 

Look here! do you see this? Isn’t it a most won- 
derful thing that I can’t call at a man’s house but I 
find a piece of this surgeon’s friend on the staircase? 
I’ve been lamed with orange peel once, and I know 
orange peel will be my death at last. It will, sir; 
orange peel will be my death, or I’ll be content to eat 
my own head, sir! I’ll eat my head, sir,” repeated Mr. 
Grimwig, striking his stick upon the ground. Halloo! 
what’s that? ” looking at Oliver and retreating a pace or 
two. 

This is young Oliver Twist, whom we were speak- 
ing about,” said Mr. Brownlow. 

Oliver bowed. 

You don’t mean to say that’s the boy who had the 
fever, I hope ? ” said Mr. Grimwig, recoiling a little 
more. Wait a minute! Don’t speak! Stop!” contin- 
ued Mr. Grimwig abruptly, losing all dread of the fever 
in his triumph at the discovery; that’s the boy who 
had the orange, and threw this bit of peel upon the 
staircase. I’ll eat my head, and his, too.” 

Ho, no, he has not had one,” said Mr. Brownlow, 
laughing. ^^Come! put down your hat, and speak to 
my young friend.” 

That’s the boy, is it? ” said Mr. Grimwig at 
length. 

^ That is the boy,” replied Mr. Brownlow. 


92 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


How are you, boy ? said Mr. Grim wig. 

A great deal better, thank you, sir,’^ replied Oliver. 

X. Mr. Brownlow asked Oliver to step downstairs and 
tell Mrs. Bedwin they were ready for tea, which, as he 
did not half like the visitor's manner, he was very happy 
to do. 

He is a nice-looking boy, is he not?^^ inquired 
Mr. Brownlow. 

I don’t know,” replied Mr. Grimwig pettishly. 

’ — Don’t know ? ” 

Ho, I don’t know. I never see any difference in 
boys. I only know two sorts of boys — mealy boys and 
beef-faced boys.” 

And which is Oliver? ” 

Mealy. I know a friend who has a beef-faced 
boy — a fine boy, they call him, with a round head 
and red cheeks and glaring eyes — a horrid boy, with a 
body and limbs that seem to be swelling out of the 
seams of his blue clothes, with the voice of a pilot and 
the appetite of a wolf. I know him, the wretch! ” 

Come,” said Mr. Brownlow, these are not the 
characteristics of young Oliver Twist, so he needn’t ex- 
cite your wrath.” 

They are not,” replied Mr. Grimwig. He may 
have worse.” 

X Here Mr. Brownlow coughed impatiently, which 
seemed to afford Mr. Grimwig the most exquisite de- 
light. 

^^He may have worse, I say,” repeated Mr. Grim- 
wig. Where does he come from? Who is he? What 
is he? He has had a fever. What of that? Fevers are 
not peculiar to good people, are they? Bad people have 
fevers sometimes, haven’t they, eh? And when are you 
going to hear a full, true, and particular account of the 
life and adventures of Oliver Twist ? ” asked Grimwig 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST, 


93 


of Mr. Brownlow, at the conclusion of the meal, looking . 
sideways at Oliver as he resumed the subject. 

To-morrow morning/^ replied Mr. Brownlow. I 
would rather he was alone with me at the time. — Come 
up to me to-morrow morning at ten o’clock, my dear.” 

Yes, sir,” replied Oliver. 

I tell you what,” whispered that gentleman to Mr. 
Brownlow, he won’t come up to you to-morrow morn- 
ing. I saw him hesitate. He is deceiving you, my 
friend.” 

I’ll swear he is not,” replied Mr. Brownlow warmly. 

If he is not,” said Mr. Grimwig, I’ll ” and 

down went the stick. 

• ^H’ll answer for that hoy’s truth with my life!” 
said Mr. Brownlow, knocking the table. 

And I for his falsehood with my head! ” rejoined 
Mr. Grimwig, knocking the table also. 

shall see,” replied Mr. Brownlow, checking 
his rising anger. 

We will,” replied Mr. Grimwig, with a provoking 
smile; we will.” 

As fate would have it, Mrs. Bedwin happened to 
bring in at this moment a small parcel of hooks which 
Mr. Brownlow had that morning purchased of the very 
bookstall keeper who had already figured in this his- 
tory; having laid them on the table, she prepared to 
leave the room. 

Stop the boy, Mrs. Bedwin! ” said Mr. Brownlow; 
there is something to go back.” 

He has gone, sir,” replied Mrs. Bedwin. 

Call after him,” said Mr. Brownlow; it’s par- 
ticular. He is a poor man, and they are not paid for. 
There are some books to be taken back, too.” 

The street door was opened. Oliver ran one way 
and the girl ran another, and Mrs. Bedwin stood on the 


94 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


step and screamed for tlie boy, but there was no boy 
in sight. Oliver and the girl returned, in a breathless 
state, to report that there were no tidings of him. 

» Dear me, I^m very sorry for that ! exclaimed Mr. 
Brownlow. I particularly wished these books to be 
returned to-night.^^ 

Send Oliver with them,^^ said Mr. Grimwig, with 
an ironical smile; he will be sure to deliver them 
safely, you know.^^ 

Yes, do let me take them, if you please, sir,^^ said 
Oliver. ITl run all the way, sir.^^ 

You shall go, my dear,^^ said the old gentleman. 

The books are on a chair by my table. Fetch them 
down.^^ 

Oliver, delighted to be of use, brought down the 
books under his arm in a great bustle, and waited, cap 
in hand, to hear what message he was to take. 

You are to say,^^ said Mr. Brownlow, glancing 
steadily at Grimwig — you are to • say that you have 
brought these books back, and that you have come to 
pay the four pound ten I owe him. This is a five-pound 
note, so you will have to bring me back ten shillings 
change.^^ 

I wonT be ten minutes, sir,^^ replied Oliver eagerly. 
Having buttoned up the bank note in his jacket pocket, 
and placing the books carefully under his arm, he made 
a respectful bow and left the room. Mrs. Bedwin fol- 
lowed him to the street door, giving him many direc- 
tions about the nearest way and the name of the book- 
seller and the name of the street, all of which Oliver 
said he clearly understood. 

Bless his sweet face! said the old lady, looking 
after him. I canT bear, somehow, to let him go out 
of my sight.^^ 

At this moment Oliver looked gayly round, and 


THE STORY OP OLIVER TWIST. 


95 


nodded before he turned the corner. The old lady smil- 
ingly returned his salutation, and, closing the door, 
went hack to her own room. 

Let me see, heTl be back in twenty minutes at the 
longest,^^ said Mr. Brownlow, pulling out his watch and 
placing it on the table. It will be dark by that time.’’ 

Oh, you really expect him to come back, do you? ” 
inquired Mr. Grim wig. ^ 

Don’t you ? ” asked Mr. Brownlow, smiling. 

^^No,” he said, smiting the table with his fist, ‘‘I 
do not. The boy has a new suit of clothes on his back, 
a set of valuable books under his arm, and a five-pound 
note in his pocket. He’ll join his old friends, the 
thieves, and laugh at you. If ever that boy returns to 
this house, sir. I’ll eat my head! ” 

WTth these words he drew his chair closer to the 
table, and there the two friends sat, in silent expecta- 
tion, with the watch between them. 

It grew so dark that the figures on the dial plate 
could scarcely be seen, but there the two gentlemen con- 
tinued to sit, in silence, with the watch between them. 



8 


CHAPTEE XY. 


Meanwhile Oliver Twisty little dreaming that he 
was within so very short a distance of the merry old gen- 
tleman^ was on his way to the bookstall. When he got to 
Clerkenwell he accidentally turned down a hy-street 
which was not exactly in his way; hut, not discover- 
ing his mistake till he had got halfway down it, and 
knowing it must lead in the right direction, he did not 
think it worth while to turn hack, and so marched on 
as quickly as he could with the hooks under his arm. 

He was walking along, thinking how happy and ' 
contented he ought to feel, and how much he would 
give for only one look at poor little Dick, who, starved 
and beaten, might be weeping bitterly at that very 
moment, when he was startled by a young woman 
screaming out very loud, Oh, my dear little brother! 
and he had hardly looked up to see what the matter 
was when he was stopped by having a pair of arms 
thrown tight around his neck. 

^^Donh!^^ cried Oliver, struggling. Let go of 
me! Who is it? What are you stopping me for? 

The only reply to this was a great number of loud 
lamentations from the young woman who had embraced 
him, and who had a little basket and a street-door key 
in her hand. 

Oh, my gracious! said the young woman. IVe 
found him! 0 Oliver! Oliver! Oh, you naughty hoy! 
to make me suffer such distress on your account! Come 
96 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


97 


liome^ dear^ come! Oh, I\e found him! Thank gra- 
cious, Fve found him! With these confused exclama- 
tions the young woman burst into another fit of crying, 
and got so dreadfully excited that a couple of women 
who came up at that moment asked a butcheFs hoy with 
a shiny head of hair, who was also looking on, whether 
he didnT think he had better run for the doctor. To 
which the butcher^s hoy, who appeared to he of a loung- 
ing, not to say lazy disposition, replied that he thought- 
not. 

What^s the matter, ma^am ? inquired a woman 
that was passing. 

Oh, ma^am,^^ replied the young woman, he ran 
away near a month ago from his parents, who are hard- 
working and respectable people, and joined a set of 
thieves and had characters, and almost broke his moth- 
er’s heart.” 

^^You wretch!” said one woman. 

Go home, do, you little brute! ” said the other. 

I’m not,” replied Oliver, greatly alarmed. I 
don’t know her. I haven’t any sister, or father or mother 
either. I’m an orphan; I live at Pentonville.” 

Oh, only hear him, how he braves it out! ” cried 
the young woman. 

Why, it’s Yancy! ” exclaimed Oliver, who now saw 
her face for the first time, and started back in great as- 
tonishment. 

You see he knows me,” cried Yancy, appealing to 
the bystanders. He can’t help himself. Make him 
come home, there’s good people, or he’ll kill his dear 
mother and father, and break my heart! ” 

^^What does this mean?” said a man, bursting out 
of a beershop, with a white dog at his heels. Young 
Oliver! Come home to your poor mother, you young 
dog! Come home directly! ” 


98 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


I dpn’t belong to them. I don’t know them. Help! 
help! ” cried Oliver, struggling in the man’s powerful 
grasp. 

^^Help!” repeated the man. ^^Yes, I’ll help you, 
you young rascal! What books are these? You’ve been 
a-stealing ’em, have you? Give ’em here! ” With these 
words the man tore the volumes from his grasp, and 
struck him violently on the head. 

That’s right! ” cried a looker-on from a garret 
window. That’s the only way of bringing him to his 
senses! ” 

To be sure! ” cried a sleepy faced carpenter, cast- 
ing an approving look at the garret window. 

It’ll do him good! ” said the two women. 

And he shall have it, too!” rejoined the man, 
dealing another blow and seizing Oliver by the collar. 

Come on, you young villain! Here, Bull’s-eye, mind 
him, boy! mind him! ” 

Weak with recent illness, stupefied by the blows and 
the suddenness of the attack, terrified by the fierce 
growling of the dog and the brutality of the man, what 
could one poor child do? Darkness had set in, it was 
a low neighborhood, no help was near; resistance was 
useless. In another moment he was dragged through 
dark, narrow courts, and forced along them so rapidly 
that it was impossible to understand the few words he 
dared to utter. It was of little importance, indeed, 
whether they were understood or not, for there was no- 
body to care for them had they been ever so plain. 

The gas lamps were lighted, Mrs. Bedwin was wait- 
ing anxiously at the open door, the servant had run up 
the street twenty times to see if there were any traces 
of Oliver, and still the two gentlemen sat perseveringly 
in the dark parlor with the watch between them. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


The narrow streets and courts at length terminated 
in a large open space, scattered about which were pens 
for beasts and other indications of a cattle market. 
Sikes slackened his pace when they reached this spot, the 
girl being unable to support any longer the rapid rate 
at which they had hitherto walked. Turning to Oliver, 
he roughly commanded him to take hold of Xancy^s 
hand. 

^^Do you hear?^^ growled Sikes, as Oliver hesitated 
and looked round. 

They were in a dark corner, quite out of the track 
of passengers. Oliver saw hut too plainly that resist- 
ance would be of no use. He held out his hand, which 
Xancy clasped tight in hers. 

Give me the other,^^ said Sikes, seizing Oliver’s un- 
occupied hand. Here, Bull’s-eye! — See here, boy! ” 
said Sikes, putting his other hand to Oliver’s throat; 
^^if he speaks ever so soft a word, hold him! D’ye 
mind! ” 

The dog growled again, and, licking his lips, eyed 
Oliver as if he were anxious to attach himself to his 
windpipe without delay. 

They had hurried on a few paces when a deep 
church bell struck the hour. With its first stroke his 
two conductors stopped and turned their heads in the 
direction whence the sound proceeded. 

99 


100 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Eight o’clock^ said Nancy, when the bell 

ceased. 

WhaEs the good of telling me that; I can hear it, 
can^t replied Sikes. 

They walked on by the dirty ways for a full half 
hour, meeting very few people, and those from their 
looks seemed to hold much the same position in society 
as Mr. Sikes himself. At length they turned into a very 
filthy narrow street, nearly full of old-clothes shops. 
The dog running forward, as if conscious that there was 
no further occasion of his keeping on guard, stopped be- 
fore the door of a shop that was closed and seemingly 
empty; the house was in a ruinous condition, and on the 
door was nailed a board stating that it was to let, which 
looked as if it had hung there for many years. 

^^All right! cried Sikes, glancing about. 

Nancy stooped below the shutters, and Oliver heard 
the sound of a hell. They crossed to the opposite side 
of the street, and stood for a moment under a lamp. A 
noise, as if a window-sash were gently raised, was heard, 
and soon afterward the door softly opened. Mr. Sikes 
then seized the terrified hoy by the collar with very 
little ceremony, and all three were quickly inside the 
building. 

The passage was perfectly dark. They waited while 
the person who had let them in chained and barred the 
door. 

An3^hody here?^^ inquired Sikes. 

No,^^ replied the voice, which Oliver thought he 
had heard before. 

Is the old Tin here ? asked the robber. 

Y^es,^^ replied the voice, and precious down in the 
mouth he has been. Won’t he he' glad to see you? Oh, 
no!” 

The style of this reply, as well as the voice which 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


101 


delivered it, seemed familiar to Oliver^s ears, but it was 
impossible to distinguish even the form of the speaker 
in the darkness. 

Let^s have a glim,^^ said Sikes, or we shall go 
breaking our necks or treading on the dog. Look after 
your legs if you do! 

Stand still a moment, and ITl get you one,^^ re- 
plied the voice. The footsteps of the speaker were 
heard, and in another moment the form of Mr. John 
Dawkins, otherwise the Artful Dodger, appeared. He 
bore in his right hand a tallow candle stuck in the cleft 
of a stick. 

The young gentleman did not stop to bestow any 
other mark of recognition upon Oliver than a humorous 
grin, but, turning away, beckoned the visitors to follow 
him down a flight of stairs. They crossed an empty 
kitchen, and, opening the door of a low, earthy smell- 
ing room which seemed to have been built in a small 
backyard, were received with a shout of laughter. 

Oh, my wig, my life! cried Master Charley Bates, 
from whose lungs the laughter had proceeded; here 
he is! Oh, cry, here he is! 0 Fagin! look at him! 
Fagin, do look at him! I canT bear it; it is such a Jolly 
game, I can’t bear it. Hold me, somebody, while I 
laugh it out. Look at his togs, Fagin! ” said Charley, 
putting the light so close to his new Jacket as nearly to 
set him on fire. Look at his togs! Superfine cloth, 
and the heavy swell cut. Oh, my eye, what a game! And 
his boots, too! Nothing but a gentleman, Fagin! ” 

Delighted to see you looking so well, my dear,” 
said the Jew, bowing with mock humility. The Art- 
ful shall give you another suit, my dear, for fear you 
should spoil that Sunday one. Why didn’t you write, 
my dear, and say you were coming? We’d had got some- 
thing warm for supper.” 


102 


THE STORY OF OLIVEiR TWIST. 


At this Master Bates roared again, so lond that 
Fagin himself relaxed and the Dodger even smiled; bnt, 
as the Artful drew forth the five-pound note at that in- 
stant, it is doubtful whether the sally of the discovery 
awakened his merriment. 

Halloo ! whaFs that ? inquired Sikes, stepping 
forward as the J ew seized the note. ThaFs mine, 
Fagin.^^ 

^^Ho, no, my dear,^^ said the Jew. ^^Mine, Bill, 
mine. You shall have the hooks.^^ 

If that ain’t mine,” said Bill Sikes, putting on his 
hat with a determined air — ^^mine and Nancy’s, that 
is — I’ll take the hoy hack again.” 

The Jew started. Oliver started, too, though from a 
very different cause, for he hoped that the dispute might 
really end in his being taken back. 

^^Come! Hand over, will you?” said Sikes. 

This is hardly fair. Bill, hardly fair, is it, Nancy? ” 
inquired the Jew. 

Fair or no fair,” retorted Sikes, hand over, I tell 
you! Do you think Nancy and me has got nothing else 
to do with our precious time but to spend it in scouring 
arter and kidnaping every young hoy as gets grabbed 
through you? Give it here, you old skeleton; give it 
here!” 

Mr. Sikes plucked the note from between the Jew’s 
finger and thumb, and, looking the old man coolly in 
the face, folded it up small and tied it in his handker- 
chief. 

That’s for our share of the trouble,” said Sikes, 
and not half enough, either. You may keep the hooks, 
if you’re fond of reading. If you ain’t, sell ’em.” 

They’re very pretty,” said Charley Bates. 

They belong to the old gentleman,” said Oliver, 
wringing his hands — to the kind, good old gentleman 


THE STORY OF OLI VER \TWIST. 103 

who took me into his house and had me nursed when I 
was near dying of the fever. Oh, pray send them back — 
send back the books and the money. Keep me here all 
my life long, but pray, pray send them back. He’ll 
think I stole them; the old lady — all of them who were 
so kind to me — will think I stole them. Oh, do have 
mercy upon me and send them back! ” 

With those words, which were uttered with all the 
energy of grief, Oliver fell on his knees at the Jew’s 
feet, and beat his hands together in perfect despera- 
tion. 

The boy’s right,” remarked Fagin, looking covertly 
round and knitting his shaggy eyebrows into a hard 
knot. You’re right, Oliver, you’re right; they will 
think you have stole ’em. Ha! ha! ” chuckled the Jew, 
rubbing his hands; ^‘^it couldn’t have happened better 
if I had chosen our time.” 

Of course it couldn’t,” replied Sikes; I know’d 
that, directly I see him coming through Clerkenwell 
with the books under his arm. It’s all right enough. 
He’s safe enough.” 

Oliver looked from one to the other while these 
words were being spoken, as if he were bewildered, and 
could scarcely understand what passed; but when Bill 
Sikes concluded he jumped suddenly to his feet and 
tore wildly from the room, uttering shrieks for help, 
which made the bare old house echo to the roof. 

Keep back the dog, Bill! ” cried Kancy, springing 
before the door and closing it as the Jew and his two 
pupils started out in pursuit. Keep back the dog; 
he’ll tear the boy to pieces! ” 

Serve him right! ” cried Sikes, struggling to dis- 
engage himself from the girl’s grasp. Stand off from 
me, or I’ll split your head against the wall! ” 

^^I don’t care for that. Bill, I don’t care for that! ” 


104 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


screamed the girl, struggling violently with the man; 
^^the child shan^t be torn down by the dog unless you 
kill me first.'’^ 

Shan’t he! said Sikes, setting his teeth. I’ll 
soon do that if you don’t keep off.” 

The housebreaker flung the girl from him to the 
further end of the room just as the Jew and the two 
boys returned, dragging Oliver among them. 

What’s the matter here ? ” said Fagin, looking 
round. 

The girl’s gone mad, I think,” replied Sikes sav- 
agely. , 

No, she hasn’t,” said Nanc}^, pale and breathless 
from the scuffle — no, she hasn’t, Fagin; don’t think 
it.” 

Then keep quiet, will you? ” said the Jew, with a 
threatening look. 

No, I won’t do that, neither,” replied Nancy, 
speaking very loud. 

So you want to get away, my dear, did you? ” said 
the Jew, taking up a jagged and knotted club which 
lay in the corner of the fireplace. Eh? ” 

Oliver made no reply, but he watched the J ew’s mo- 
tions and breathed quickly. 

Wanted to get assistance — called for the police, 
did you?” sneered the Jew, catching the boy by the 
arm. We’ll cure you of that, my young master.” 

The J ew inflicted a sharp blow on OliveFs shoulders 
with the club, and was raising it for a second when the 
girl, rushing forward, wrested it from his hand. She 
flung it into the fire with a force that brought some of 
the glowing coals whirling out into the room. 

won’t stand by and see it done, Fagin!” cried 
the girl. You’ve got the boy, and what more would 
you have? Let him be — let him be, or I shall put that 


THE STORY OP OLIVEl.l TWIST. 


105 


mark on some of you that will bring me to the gallows 
before my time/^ ^ 

Why, I^ancy/’ said the Jew m a soothing tone, 
^^you — youhe more clever than evfr tor night. Ha! ha! 
my dear, you are acting beautifully/^ 

Am I? said the girl. Take care I donT overdo 
it. You will be the worse for it,' Fagin, if I do, and so 
I tell you in good time to keep clear of me.^^ 

I suppose he^d better not wear his good clothes to- 
morrow, Fagin, had he ? inquired Charley Bates. 
Certainly not,^^ replied the J ewS- 

Master Bates, apparently much delighted with his 
commission, took the cleft stick and led Oliver into an 
adjacent kitchen, where there were two or three of the 
beds on which he had slept before; and here, with many 
hursts of laughter, he produced the same old suit of 
clothes which Oliver had so much congratulated him- 
self upon leaving off at Mr. Brownlow’s, and the acci- 
dental display of which to Fagin by the Jew who pur- 
chased them had been the first clew of his whereabouts. 

^^Pull off the smart ones,^^ said Charley, and Fll 
give ^em to Fagin to take care of. What fun it is! 

Poor Oliver unwillingly obeyed. Master Bates, roll- 
ing up the new clothes under his arm, departed from 
the room, leaving Oliver in the room, and locking the 
door behind him. 

The noise of Charley^s laughter might have kept 
many people awake under more happy circumstances 
than those in which Oliver was placed. But he was very 
sick and weary, and he soon fell into a sound sleep. 


CHAPTEE XVII. 

For good and <substantial reasons the reader is now 
invited to go baoV to the town in which Oliver Twist 
was born. < 

Mr. Bumble emerged at early morning from the 
workhouse gate and walked^ with portly carriage and 
commanding steps, up the High Street, and relaxed 
not in his dignified pace until he reached the farm 
where Mrs. Mann tended the infant paupers with a 
parish care. 

^^Drat that beadle!’^ said Mrs. Mann, hearing the 
well-known impatient shaking at the garden gate. If 
it isnT him at this time in the morning! — Lank, Mr. 
Bumble, only think of its being you! Well, dear me, it 
is a pleasure, this is! Come into the parlor, please, sir.^^ 

The first sentence was addressed to Susan, the ex- 
clamations of delight were spoken to Mr. Bumble as the 
good lady unlocked the garden gate and showed him 
with great attention and respect into the house. 

^^Mrs. Mann,” said Mr. Bumble, letting himself 
gradually and slowly down into a chair — ^^Mrs. Mann, 
ma^am, good morning! ” 

Well, and good morning to you, sir,” replied Mrs. 
Mann, with many smiles, ^^and hoping you find your- 
self well, sir? ” 

So, so, Mrs. Mann,” replied the beadle. A 
headless life is not a bed of roses, Mrs. Mann.” 

106 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


107 


^^Ah! that it isn’t, indeed, Mr. Bumble,” rejoined 
the lady. 

A beadle’s life, ma’am,” continued Mr. Bumble, 
striking the table with his cane, is a life of worry and 
vexation and hardihood; but all public characters, as I 
may say, must suffer persecution.” 

Mrs. Mann, not very well knowing what the beadle 
meant, raised her hands with a look of sympathy and 
sighed. 

Ah! you may well sigh, Mrs. Mann,” said the 
beadle. 

Finding she had done right, Mrs. Mann sighed 
again, evidently to the satisfaction of the public char- 
acter, who, repressing a pleased smile by looking sternly 
at his cocked hat, said: 

Mrs. Mann, I am agoing to London.” 

^^Lauk, Mr. Bumble!” said Mrs. Mann, starting 
back. 

To London, ma’am,” resumed the beadle, by 
coach; I and two paupers, Mrs. Mann. A legal action 
is coming on about a settlement, and the board has 
appointed me — me, Mrs. Mann — to dispose of the mat- 
ter before the quarter sessions at Clerkenwell.” 

Mr. Bumble delivered himself of these words with 
so much depth of purpose that Mrs. Mann appeared 
quite awed by them. At length she said: 

You’re going by coach, sir? I thought it was al- 
ways usual to send them paupers in carts.” 

The opposition coach contracts for these two, and 
takes them cheap,” said Mr. Bumble. They are both 
in a very low state — but we are forgetting business, 
ma’am. Here is your stipend for the month.” 

Wherewith Mr. Bumble produced some silver money 
rolled up in paper from his pocketbook, and requested 
a receipt, which Mrs. Mann wrote. 


108 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


It^s very much blotted^ sir/^ said the farmer of in- 
fants, but it^s formal enough, I dare say. Thank you, 
Mr. Bumble, sir; I am very much obliged to you, I’m 
sure.” 

Mr. Burable nodded blandly in acknowledgment to 
Mrs. Mann’s courtesy, and inquired how the children 
were. 

Bless their dear little hearts! ” said Mrs. Mann; 
they’re as well as can be, the dears! Of course, except 
the two that died last week and little Dick.” 

Isn’t that boy any better?” inquired Mr. Bum- 
ble. Mrs. Mann shook her head. 

He’s a ill-conditioned, vicious, bad-disposed parish 
child that,” said Mr. Bumble angrily. Where is he ? ” 

I’ll bring him to you in one minute, sir,” replied 
Mrs. Mann. Here, you Dick! ” 

After some calling, Dick was discovered, and having 
had his face put under the pump and dried upon Mrs. 
Mann’s gown, he was led into the awful presence of Mr. 
Bumble, the beadle. 

The child was pale and thin, his cheeks were sunken, 
and his eyes large and bright. The scanty parish dress, 
the livery of his misery, hung loosely upon his feeble 
body, and his young limbs had wasted away like those 
of an old man. 

Such was the little being who stood trembling be- 
neath Mr. Bumble’s glance, not daring to lift his eyes 
from the floor, and trembling even to hear the beadle’s 
voice. 

Can’t you look at the gentleman, you obstinate 
boy? ” said Mrs. Mann. 

The child meekly raised his eyes and encountered 
those of Mr. Bumble. 

What’s the matter with you, parish Dick?” in- 
quired Mr. Bumble with well-timed gayety. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST, 


100 


N’othing, sir/^ replied the child faintly. 

I should think not/^ said Mrs. Mann. You want 
for nothings I^m sure.^^ 

I should like — ^ faltered the child. 

Heyday! interposed Mrs. Mann; 1 suppose 
that youYe going to say that you do want for some- 
thing now? Why^ you little wretch 

'^Stop, Mrs. Mann, stop! said the beadle, raising 
his hand with a show of authority. Like what, sir, 
eh? 

I should like,^^ faltered the child, if somebody 
that could write would put a few words down for me on 
a piece of paper and fold it up and seal it and keep it 
for me after I am laid in the ground.’^ 

Why, what does the hoy mean?^^ exclaimed Mr. 
Bumble, on whom the earnest manner and wan as- 
pect of the child had made some impression, accus- 
tomed as he was to such things. What do you mean, 
sir? ' 

I should like,^^ said the child, to leave my dear 
love to poor Oliver Twist, and to let him know how 
often I have sat by myself aild cried to think of his 
wandering about in the dark nights with nobody to help 
him, and I should like to tell him,^^ said the child, 
pressing his small hands together and speaking with 
great fervor, that I was glad to die when I was very 
young; for perhaps, if I had lived to be a man and grew 
old, my little sister, who is in heaven, might forget me 
or be unlike me, and it would be so much happier if we 
were both children there together.’^ 

Mr. Bumble surveyed the little speaker from head to 
foot with indescribable astonishment, and turning to 
his companion said: They Ye all. in one story, Mrs. 
Mann. That outrageous Oliver has ruined them all! 

couldnY have believed it, sir! said Mrs. Mann, 


no 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


holding np her hands and looking angidly at Dick. I 
never see snch a hardened little wretch! 

Take him away, ma’am! ” said Mr. Bumble. This 
must be stated to the board, Mrs. Mann.” 

I hope that the gentlemen will understand that it 
isn’t my fault, sir?” said Mrs. Mann, whimpering pa- 
thetically. 

They shall understand that, ma’am; they shall be 
acquainted with the true state of the case,” said Mr. 
Bumble pompously. There, take him away! I can’t 
bear the sight of him.” 

Dick was immediately taken away and locked up in 
the coal cellar, and Mr. Bumble shortly afterward took 
himself off to prepare for his journey. 

At six next morning, Mr. Bumble having exchanged 
his cocked hat for a round one, and put on a blue great- 
coat with a cape to it, took his place on the outside of 
the 'Coach, accompanied by the children whose settle- 
ment was disputed, with whom in due course of time 
he arrived in London. 

Having disposed of his charges for the night, Mr. 
Bumble sat himself down in the house at which the 
coach stopped and took a temperate dinner of steaks, 
oyster sauce, and porter. Putting a glass of hot gin 
and water on the mantelpiece, he drew his chair to the 
fire, and he then composed himself comfortable to read 
the paper. 

The very first paragraph upon which Mr. Bumble’s 
eye rested was the following advertisement: 

FIVE GUINEAS EEWARD. 

Whereas, a young boy named Oliver Twist ran 
away or was enticed on Thursday evening last from his 
home at Pentonville, and has not since been heard of, 
the above reward will be paid to any person who will 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Ill 


give such information as may lead to the discovery of 
the said Oliver Twist or tend to throw any light upon 
his previous history, in which the advertiser is for many 
reasons warmly interested.^^ 

And then followed a full description of Oliver’s 
dress, person, appearance, and disappearance, with the 
name and address of Mr. Brownlow at full length. 

Mr. Bumble opened his eyes, read the advertisement 
slowly and carefully through several times, and in some- 
thing more than five minutes was on his way to Penton- 
ville, having actually in his excitement left the glass of 
gin and water untasted on the mantelpiece. 

Is Mr. Brownlow at home ? ” inquired Mr. Bumble 
of the girl who opened the door. 

To this inquiry the girl returned the reply: 
don’t know — where do you come from? ” 

Mr. Bumble no sooner uttered Oliver’s name in ex- 
planation of his errand than Mrs. Bedwin, who had been 
listening at the parlor door, hastened into the passage 
in a breathless state. 

Come in, come in,” said the old lady; I knew we 
should hear of him. Poor dear! I knew we should; I 
was certain of it. Bless his heart! I said so all along.” 

Having said this, the worthy old lady hurried back 
into the parlor again, and, seating herself on a sofa, 
hurst into tears. The girl, who was not quite so tender- 
hearted, had run upstairs meanwhile, and now returned 
with a request that Mr. Bumble would follow her im- 
mediately, which he did. 

He was shown into the little back study, where sat 
Mr. Brownlow and his friend Mr. Crimwig with de- 
canters and glasses before them. The latter gentleman 
eyed him closely, and at once burst into the exclama- 
tion: 


9 


112 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


A beadle — a parish beadle^ or Fll eat my head! 

Pray don’t interrupt just now/’ said Mr. Brown- 
low. Take a seat^ will yon? ” 

Mr. Bumble sat himself down, quite confused by 
the oddity of Mr. Grimwig’s manner. Mr. Brownlow 
moved the lamp so as to obtain an uninterrupted view 
of the beadle’s countenance, and said with a little im- 
patience: 

Kow, sir, you come in consequence of having seen 
the advertisement? ” 

Yes, sir,” said Mr. Bumble. 

And you are a beadle, are you not? ” inquired Mr. 
Grimwig. 

I am a parochial beadle, gentleman,” rejoined Mr. 
Bumble proudly. 

Of course,” said Mr. Grimwig aside to his friend, 
I knew he was. His greatcoat is a parochial cut, and 
he looks a beadle all over.” 

Mr. Brownlow gently shook his head to impose si- 
lence on his friend, and resumed: 

Do you know where this poor boy is now? ” 

Yo more than nobody,” replied Mr. Bumble. 

^^Well, what do you know of him?” inquired the 
old gentleman. Speak out, my friend, if you have 
anything to say. What do you know of him? ” 

^^You don’t happen to know any good of him, do 
you?” said Mr. Grimwig severely, after studying Mr. 
Bumble’s features. 

Mr. Bumble caught at the inquiry very quickly, 
and shook his head with great solemnity. 

^^You see this?” said Mr. Grimwig, looking tri- 
umphantly at Mr. Brownlow. 

Mr. Brownlow looked apprehensively at Bumble’s 
pursed-up countenance, and requested him to tell what 
he knew regarding Oliver in as few words as possible. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


113 


Mr. Bumble put down his hat^ unbuttoned his coat^ 
folded his arms, inclined his head, and after a few me- 
mentos reflection commenced his story. 

It would be tedious if given in the headless words, 
occupying as it did some twenty minutes in the telling, 
but the sum and substance of it was that Oliver was a 
foundling, with low and vicious parents, who had from 
his birthday displayed no better qualities than treachery, 
ingratitude, and malice, and who had ended his brief 
career in the place of his birth by making a bloody and 
cowardly attack on an unoffending lad and running 
away in the nighttime from his master’s house. In 
proof of his really being the person he represented him- 
self, Mr. Bumble laid on the table the papers he had 
brought to town, and, folding his arms again, awaited 
Mr. Brownlow’s observations. 

I fear it is all too true,” said the old gentleman 
sorrowfully, after looking over the papers. This is 
not much for your news; but I would gladly have given 
you three times the money if it had been favorable to 
the boy.” 

Mr. Bumble shook his head gravely, and, pocketing 
the five guineas, withdrew. 

Mr. Brownlow paced the room to and fro for some 
minutes, evidently so much disturbed by the beadle’s 
tale that even Mr. Glrimwig forbore to vex him further. 
At length he stopped and rang the bell violently. 

Mrs. Bedwin,” said Mr. Brownlow when the house- 
keeper appeared, that boy Oliver is a fraud! ” 

It can’t be, sir, it can not be,” said the old lady 
energetically. 

I tell you he is,” retorted the old gentleman sharp- 
ly. What do you mean by can’t be? We have just 
heard a full account of him from his birth, and he has 
been a thorough little villain all his life.” 


114 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


I never will believe it^ sir/’ replied the old lady 
firmly. 

You old women never believe anything bat quack 
doctors and lying stony books/’ growled Mr. Grrimwig. 

I knew it all along. Why didn’t you take my advice 
in the beginning; you would if he hadn’t had a fever^ 
I suppose, eh? He was interesting, wasn’t he? Inter- 
esting, bah!” and Mr. Grim wig poked ’the fire with a 
fiourish. 

He was a dear, grateful, gentle child, sir,” retorted 
Mrs. Bedwin indignantly. I know what children are, 
sir, and have these forty years; and people who can’t 
say the same shouldn’t say anything about them — that’s 
my opinion.” 

Silence! ” said Mr. Brownlow, feigning an anger 
he was far from feeling. Never let me hear the boy’s 
name again; I rang the bell to tell you that. Never, 
never, on any pretense, mind! You may leave the room, 
Mrs. Bedwin. Remember, I am in earnest.” 

There were sad hearts at Mr. Brownlow’s that night. 
Oliver’s sunk within him when he thought of his good 
kind friends, but it was well for him that he could not 
know what they had heard, or it would have broken 
outright. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


About noon next day, when the Dodger and Master 
Bates had gone ont to pursue their customary vocations, 
Mr. Fagin took the opportunity of reading Oliver a 
long lecture on the crying sin of ingratitude. 

Little Olivers blood ran cold as he listened to the 
Jew^s words, and imperfectly comprehended the dark 
threats conveyed in them. 

The Jew, smiling hideously, patted Oliver on the 
head and said that, if he kept himself quiet and applied 
himself to business, he saw they would he very good 
friends yet. 

Then, taking his hat and covering himself with an 
old patched great coat, he went out and locked the room 
door behind him. 

And so Oliver remained all that day and for the 
greater part of many days seeing nobody between early 
morning and midnight, and left during the long hours 
to commune with his own thoughts, which, never fail- 
ing to revert to his kind friends and the opinion they 
must have formed of him, were sad indeed. 

After the lapse of a week or so the J ew left the room 
door unlocked, and he was at liberty to wander about 
the house. 

It was a very dirty place. The rooms upstairs had 
great high wooden chimney places and large doors, with 
paneled walls and cornices to the ceiling, which, al- 
115 


116 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


though they were black with neglect and dust, were 
ornamented in various ways. From all of these tokens 
Oliver concluded' that a long time ago, before the old 
Jew was born, it had belonged to better people, and 
had perhaps been quite gay and handsome, dismal and 
dreary as it looked now. And often when it grew dark, 
and he was tired of wandering from room to room, he 
would crouch in the corner of the passage by the street 
door to be as near living people as he could, and would 
remain there, listening and counting the hours until 
the Jew or the hoys returned. 

One afternoon, the Dodger and Master Bates being 
engaged on that evening, the first-named young gentle- 
man took it into his head to evince some anxiety re- 
garding the decoration of his person, and with this end 
and aim he commanded Oliver to assist him in his 
toilet straightway. 

Oliver was hut too glad to make himself useful — 
too happy to have some faces, however had, to look upon 
— to throw any objection on the way of this proposal. So 
he at once expressed his readiness, and knelt on the 
floor, while the Dodger sat upon the table, so that he 
could take his foot in his lap while cleaning his hoot. 

Whether it was the sense of freedom and independ- 
ence which a rational animal may be supposed to feel 
when he sits on a table in an easy attitude smoking a 
pipe, swinging one leg carelessly to and fro, and having 
his boots cleaned all the time, without even the past 
trouble of having them taken off or the prospective mis- 
ery of putting them on to disturb his reflections, or 
whether it was the goodness of the tobacco that soothed 
the feelings of the Dodger or the mildness of the beer 
that mollified his thoughts, he was evidently tinctured 
for the nonce with a spice of romance and enthusiasm 
foreign to his general nature. He looked down on Oli- 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


117 


ver with a thoughtful countenance for a brief space, 
and. then said, Why donh you put yourself under 
Fagin, Oliver, and make your fortun^ out of hand? 

And be able to retire on your property and do the 
gen-teel, as I mean to ? said Charley Bates. 

I don^t like rejoined Oliver timidly; I wish 
they would let me go. I — I — would rather go.^^ 

And Fagin would rather not! rejoined Charley. 

Oliver knew this too well, hut, thinking it might be 
dangerous to express his feelings more openly, he only 
sighed and went on with his hoot cleaning. 

Go ! exclaimed the Dodger. Why, whereas 
your spirit? Donh you take any pride out of yourself? 
Would you go and be dependent on your friends? 

Oh, blow that! said Master Bates, drawing two 
or three silk handkerchiefs from his pocket and toss- 
ing them into a cupboard; thaFs too mean, that 
is."^ 

I couldn^t do it,’^ said the Dodger with an air of 
haughty disgust. 

You can leave your friends, though,^^ said Oliver 
with a half smile, and let them be punished for what 
you did.^^ 

That,^^ rejoined the Dodger, with his wave of his 
pipe — ^^that was all out of consideration for Fagin, 
Yause the traps know that we work together, and he 
might have got into trouble if we hadn^t made out 
lucky; that was the move, wasnh it, Charley? 

Master Bates nodded assent, and would have spoken, 
but the recollection of OliveFs flight came so sudden 
upon him that the smoke he was inhaling got entangled 
with a laugh and went up into his head and down into 
his throat, and brought on a fit of coughing and stamp- 
ing about five minutes long. 

^^Look here! said the Dodger, drawing forth a 


118 


THE STOEY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


handful of shillings and halfpence. Here’s a jolly 
life! What’s the odds where it comes from? Here, 
catch hold! there’s plenty more where they were took 
from. Y^ou won’t, won’t you? Oh, you precious 
fiat! ” 

^Ht’s naughty, ain’t it, Oliver?” inquired Charley 
Bates. He’ll come to he scragged, won’t he? ” 

I don’t know what that means,” replied Oliver. 

Something in this way, old feller,” said Charley. 
As he said it. Master Bates caught up an end of his 
neckerchief, and holding it erect in the air, dropped 
his head on his shoulder, and jerked a curious sound 
through his teeth, thereby indicating by a lively pan- 
tomime that scragging and hanging were one and the 
same thing. 

That’s what it means,” said Charley. Look how 
he stares. Jack! I never did see such prime company as 
that ’ere boy; he’ll be the death of me, I know he will.” 
Master Charley Bates having laughed heartily again, re- 
sumed his pipe with tears in his eyes. 

You have been brought up bad,” said the Dodger, 
surveying his boots with much satisfaction when Oliver 
had polished them. Fagin will make something of 
you, though, or you’ll be the first he ever had that 
turned out unprofitable. You’d better begin at once, 
for you’ll come to the trade long before you think of it, 
and you’re only losing time, Oliver.” 

If you don’t take pocket handkerchiefs and 
watches,” said the Dodger, some other cove will, so 
that the cove that lose ’em will be all the worse, 
and you’ll be all the worse, too, and nobody half a 
ha’p’orth the better, except the chaps wot gets them 
— and you’ve just as good a right to them as they 
have.” 

To be sure, to be sure,” said the Jew, who had 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


119 


entered, unseen by Oliver. It all lies in a nutshell, 
my dear — in a nutshell, take the Dodger^s word for it. 
Ha! ha! ha! He understands the catechism of his 
trade.^^ 

The old man rubbed his hands gleefully together. 

The conversation proceeded no further at this time, 
for the Jew had returned home accompanied by Miss 
Betsy and a gentleman whom Oliver had never seen 
before, but who was called by the Dodger Tom Chit- 
ling. 

Where do you think the gentleman has come 
from, Oliver? inquired the Jew with a grin, as the 
other boys put a bottle of spirits on the table. 

I — I — don’t know, sir,” replied Oliver. 

Who’s that? ” inquired Tom Chitling, casting a 
contemptuous look at Oliver. 

A young friend of mine, my dear,” replied the 

Jew. 

He’s in luck then,^’ said the young man, with a 
meaning look at Fagin. Never mind where I come 
from, young ’un; you’ll find your way there soon enough. 
I’ll bet a crown! ” 

At this sally the boys laughed. After some more 
jokes on the same subject, they exchanged a few short 
whispers with Fagin and withdrew. From this day 
Oliver was seldom left alone, but was placed in al- 
most constant communication with the two boys, who 
played the old game with the Jew every day, whether 
for their own improvement or Oliver’s Mr. Fagin 
best knew. At other times the old gentlman would tell 
them stories of robberies he had committed in his 
younger days, mixed up so with much that was droll 
and curious that Oliver could not help laughing and 
showing that he was amused in spite of all his better 
feelings. 


120 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


In short, the wily old Jew had the boy in his toils, 
having prepared his mind, by solitude and gloom, to 
prefer any society to the companionship of his own sad 
thoughts in such a dreary place; he was now slowly 
pouring into his soul the poison which he hoped would 
blacken it, and change its hue for ever. 


CHAPTEK XIX. 


It was a chilly damp, windy night when the Jew, 
buttoning his greatcoat tight round his shriveled body 
and pulling the collar up over his ears, so as completely 
to conceal the lower part of his face, came out from 
his den and slunk down the street as quickly as he 
could. 

The mud lay thick upon the stones, and a black . 
mist hung over the streets; the rain fell sluggishly 
down, and everything felt cold and clammy to the 
touch. It seemed just the night when it befitted such 
a thing as the Jew to he abroad, and as he glided stealth- 
ily along, creeping beneath the shelter of the walls and 
doorways, the hideous old man seemed like some loath- 
some reptile. 

He kept on his course through many winding and 
narrow ways and mean .and dirty streets until he at 
length turned into one lighted only by a single lamp 
at the farther end. At the door of a house in this street 
he knocked, and, having exchanged a few muttered 
words with the person who opened the door, walked 
upstairs. 

A dog growled as he touched the handle of a door, 
and a man^s voice demanded who was there. 

Only me. Bill; only me, my dear,^^ said the Jew, 
looking in. 

Come in,^^ said Sikes. 

121 


122 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


my dear/^ replied the Jew. Ah! Nancy.^’ 
This greeting was uttered with some embarrassment, 
for Mr. Fagin and his yonng friend had not met since 
she had interfered in behalf of Oliver. All doubts upon 
the subject, if he had any, were speedily removed by the 
young lady’s behavior. She took her feet off the fender, 
pushed hack her chair, and bade Fagin draw up his, 
without saying any more about it, for it was a cold night 
and no mistake. 

It is cold, N'ancy dear,” said the Jew, as he warmed 
his skinny hands over the fire. It seems to go right 
through one,” added the old man, touching his left 
side. 

It must he a piercer if it finds its way through your 
heart,” said Mr. Sikes. Make haste, and give him 
something to drink, Nancy.” 

Nancy quickly brought a bottle from a cupboard in 
which there were many, and Sikes, pouring out a glass 
of brandy, hade the J ew drink it off. 

Quite enough, quite, thank ye. Bill,” replied the 
Jew, putting down the glass after just setting his lips 
to it. 

There,” said Sikes, smacking his lips. Now I’m 
ready.” 

For business, eh ? About the cottage at Chertsey, 
Bill ? ” said the J ew, drawing his chair forward and 
speaking in a very low voice. 

^^Yes. Wot about it?” inquired Sikes. 

^^Ah! you know what I mean, my dear,” said 
the Jew. He knows what I mean, Nancv, don’t 
he?” 

No, he don’t,” sneered Mr. Sikes, or he won’t, 
and that’s the same thing. Speak out, and call things 
by their right names; don’t sit there winking and blink- 
ing, and talking to me in hints, as if you warn’t the 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


123 


very first that thought about the robbery. Wot d’ye 
mean ? ” 

Hush, Bill, hush! ” said the Jew, who had in vain 
attempted to stop this burst of indignation. Some- 
body will hear us, my dear, somebody will hear us.” 

Let ’em hear! ” said Sikes; I don’t care.” But 
as Mt. Sikes did care, upon refiection he dropped his 
voice as he said the words and grew calmer. 

There, there,” said the Jew coaxingly. It was 
only my caution — nothing more. Now, my dear, about 
that cottage at Chertsey — when is it to be done. Bill, 
eh, when is it to be done? Such plate!” said the Jew, 
rubbing his hands and raising his eyebrows in a rapture 
of anticipation.. 

Not at all,” replied Sikes coldly. 

Not to be done at all! ” echoed the Jew, leaning 
back in his chair. 

No, not at all,” rejoined Sikes; at least it can’t 
be a put-up job, as we expected.” 

Then it hasn’t been properly gone about,” said 
the Jew, turning pale with anger. Don’t tell me! ” 

But I will tell you,” retorted Sikes. Who are 
you that’s not to be told? I tell you that Toby Crackit 
has been hanging about the place for a fortnight, and 
he can’t get one of the servants to help him.” 

Do you mean to tell me. Bill,” said the J ew, soften- 
ing as the other grew heated, that neither of the two 
men in the house can be got over? ” 

^^Yes, I do mean to tell you so,” replied Sikes. 

The old lady has had ’em these twenty years, and if 
you were to give ’em five hundred pound they wouldn’t 
be in it.” 

The Jew looked very blank at this information, and, 
after reflecting for some minutes with his chin sunk 
on his breast, raised his head and said, with a deep sigh, 


124 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


that if flash Toby Crackit reported aright he feared 
the game was up. 

^^And jet/’ said the old man, dropping his hands 
on his knees, it^s a sad thing, my dear, to lose so much 
.when we had set our hearts upon it.^^ 

So it is,"’"’ said Mr. Sikes, worse luck! 

A long silence followed, during which the Jew was 
plunged in deep thought, with his face wrinkled into 
an expression of hideous wickedness. Sikes eyed him 
from time to time, and [N'ancy, apparently fearful of 
irritating the housebreaker, sat with her eye flxed upon 
the fire, as if she had been deaf to all that passed. 

Fagin,^^ said Sikes, abruptly breaking the still- 
ness, is it worth fifty shiners extra if it is safely done 
from the outside ? 

^^Yes,^^ said the Jew, suddenly rousing himself, as 
if from a d^ream. 

Is it a bargain ? inquired Sikes. 

Yes, my dear, yes,^^ rejoined the Jew, grasping the 
other’s hand, his eyes glistening, and every muscle in 
his face working with the excitement that the inquiry 
had awakened. 

Then,” said Sikes, thrusting aside the Jew’s hand 
with some disdain, let it come off as soon as you like. 
Toby and I were over the garden wall the night afore 
last, sounding the panels of the door and shutters; the 
cottage’s barred up at night like a jail, but there’s one 
part we can crack safe and softly.” 

Which was that. Bill?” asked the Jew eagerly. 

Why,” whispered Sikes, as you cross the 
lawn ” 

Yes, yes,” said the Jew, bending his head for- 
ward, with the eyes almost starting out of it. 

^^Umph!” cried Sikes, stopping short as the girl, 
scarcely moving her head, looked suddenly round and 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


125 


pointed for an instant to the Jew’s face. Never mind 
what part it is. You can’t do it without me, I know, 
but it’s best to be on the safe side when one deals with 
you.” 

As ^^ou like, my dear, as you like,” replied the 
Jew, biting his lip. Is there no help wanted but yours 
and Toby’s?” 

None,” said Sikes, ’cept a centerhit and a boy. 
The first we’ve both got; the second you must find us.” 

A boy! ” exclaimed the Jew. Oh, then it is a 
panel, eh ? ” 

Never mind wot it is! ” replied Sikes. I want a 
boy, and he mustn’t he a big ’un.” 

‘^^Bill!” said the Jew. 

What now? ” inquired Sikes. 

The Jew nodded his head toward Nancy, who was 
still gazing at the fire, and hinted by a sign that he 
would have her told to leave the room. Sikes shrugged 
his shoulders impatiently, as if he thought this unneces- 
sary, but agreed, nevertheless, by asking Miss Nancy 
to fetch him a jug of beer. 

You don’t want any beer,” said Nancy, folding 
her arms and keeping her seat very composedly. 

I tell you I do ! ” replied Sikes. 

Nonsense!” rejoined the girl coolly. Go on, 
Fagin. I know what he’s going to say. Bill; he needn’t 
mind me.” 

The Jew still hesitated, and Sikes looked from one 
to the other in some surprise. 

Why, you don’t mind the girl, do you, Fagin?” 
he asked at length. You’ve known her long enough 
to trust her. She ain’t one to blah, are you, Nancy? ” 

‘‘I should think not!” replied the young lady, 
drawing her chair up to the table and putting her el- 
bows upon it. 


126 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


No, no, my dear, I know you’re not,” said the Jew; 
but ” and again the old man paused. 

^‘^But wot?” inquired Sikes. 

I didn’t know whether she mightn’t p’r’aps be out 
of sorts, you know, my dear, as she was the other night,” 
replied the Jew. 

At this confession Miss Nancy burst into a loud 
laugh, shook her head with an air of defiance, and burst 
into exclamations of Keep the game agoing! ” 
Never say die! ” and the like, wliich seemed at once to 
have the effect of assuring both gentlemen, for the Jew 
nodded his head with a satisfied air and resumed his 
seat, as did Mr. Sikes likewise. 

Now, Fagin,” said Nancy with a laugh, tell Bill 
at once about Oliver! ” 

^^Ah! you’re a clever one, my dear; the sharpest 
girl I ever saw! ” said the Jew. It was Oliver I was 
going to speak about, sure enough. Ha! ha! ha! ” 

^‘^What about him?” demanded Sikes. 

He’s the boy for you, my dear,” replied the Jew 
in a hoarse whisper, laying his finger on the side of his 
nose and grinning frightfully. 

He! ” exclaimed Sikes. 

Have him. Bill! ” said Nancy. I would if I was 
in your place. He mayn’t be so much up as any of the 
others, but that’s not what you want, if he’s only to open 
a door for you. Depend upon it, he’s a safe one. Bill.” 

I know he is,” rejoined Fagin; he’s been in good 
training these last few weeks, and it’s time he began to 
work for his bread. Besides, the others are all too big.” 

^^Well, he is just the size I want,” said Mr. Sikes, 
reflecting. 

And will do everything you w^ant. Bill, my dear,” 
interposed the Jew; he can’t help himself — that is, if 
you only frighten him enough. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


127 


Frighten him! echoed Sikes. IFll he no sham 
frightening^ mind yon. If there’s anything qneer about 
him when we once get into the work — in for a penny, 
in for a pound — you won’t see him alive again, Fagin. 
Think of that before you send him. 

I’ve thought of it all,” said the J ew with energy. 
^^I’ve — I’ve had my eye upon him, my dears, close — 
close. Once let him feel that he is one of us — once fill 
his mind with the idea that he has been a thief — and 
he’s ours — ours for his life! Oho! it couldn’t have come 
about better! ” The old man crossed his arms upon his 
breast, and, drawing his head and shoulders into a heap, 
literally hugged himself for joy. 

Ours! ” said Sikes. Yours, you mean.” 

Perhaps I do, my dear,” said the J ew with a shrill 
chuckle. Mine, if you like. Bill.” 

And wot,” said Sikes, scowling fiercely on his 
agreeable friend — wot makes you take so much pains 
about one chalk-faced kid, when you know there are 
fifty boys snoozing about Common Garden every night 
as you might pick and choose from? ” 

Because they’re of no use to me, my dear,” replied 
the Jew with some confusion. FTot worth the taking. 
With this boy properly managed, my dears, I could do 
what I couldn’t with twenty of them. Besides,” said 
the Jew, recovering his self-possession, he has us now 
if he could only run away, and he must be in the same 
boat with us. Yever mind how he came here, it’s quite 
enough for my power ©ver him that he was in a robbery; 
that’s all I want. Yow, how much better this is than 
being obliged to put the poor leetle boy out of the way, 
which would be dangerous, and we should lose by it 
besides! ” 

^^When is it to be done?” asked Yancy, stopping 
some violent exclamation on the part of Mr. Sikes ex- 

10 


128 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


pressive of the disgust with which he received Fagin’s 
affectation of kindness. 

^^Ah! to be sure/^ said the Jew, ^^when is it to he 
done, Bill? 

I planned with Toby the night arter to-morrow,’’ 
rejoined Sikes in a surly voice, if he heard nothing 
from me to the contrary.” 

Grood! ” said the Jew; there is no moon.” 

No,” rejoined Sikes. 

It’s all arranged about bringing off the swag, is 
it? ” asked the Jew. 

Sikes nodded. 

And about ” 

Oh, ah, it’s all planned,” rejoined Sikes, interrupt- 
ing him; never mind particulars. You’d better bring 
the boy here to-morrow night; I shall get off an hour 
arter daybreak. Then you hold your tongue and keep 
the melting pot ready, and that’s all you’ll have to do.” 

After some discussion, in which all three took an 
active part, it was decided that Nancy should go to the 
J ew’s next evening when the night had set in and bring 
Oliver away with her, Fagin remarking that, if he ob- 
jected to the task, he would he more willing to accom- 
pany the girl who had so re^^ently shown him kindly 
feelings than anybody else. It was also solemnly ar- 
ranged that poor Oliver should he handed over to the 
care and keeping of Mr. Sikes; and, further, that the 
said Sikes should deal with him as he thought fit, and 
should not he held responsible by the Jew for any acci- 
dent or evil that might happen to the hoy or any pun- 
ishment with which it might be necessary to visit him. 

These plans arranged, Mr. Sikes proceeded to drink 
brandy at a furious rate, yelling at the same time most 
unmusical snatches of song until he fell over upon the 
floor, and went to sleep where he fell. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


129 


Good night, Nancy/’ said the Jew, miiffling him- 
self up as before. 

Good night.” 

Their eyes met, and the Jew looked at her closely. 
There was no flinching about the girl. She was as true 
and earnest in the matter as Toby Crackit himself 
could be. 

The Jew again bade her good night, and, bestowing 
a sly kick upon the prostrate form of Mr. Sikes while 
her back was turned, groped down the stairs. 

He wended his way through mud and mire to his 
gloomy abode, where the Dodger was sitting up impa- 
tiently awaiting his return. 

Is Oliver abed? I want to speak to him,” was his 
first remark as they descended the stairs. 

Hours ago,” replied the Dodger, throwing open a 
door. Here he is! ” 

The boy was lying fast asleep on a rude bed upon 
the floor, so pale with anxiety and sadness and the close- 
ness of his prison that he looked like death, as it appears 
when a young and gentle spirit has but an instant fled 
to heaven. 

Not now,” said the Jew, turning softly away. 

To-morrow, to-morrow.'"’ 


CHAPTEE XX. 


When Oliver awoke in the morning he was a good 
deal surprised to find that a new pair of shoes^ with 
strong thick soles^ had been placed at his bedside, and 
that his old shoes had been removed. At first he- was 
pleased with the discovery, hoping it might he the fore- 
runner of his release; hnt such thoughts were quickly 
dispelled on his sitting down to breakfast along with 
the J ew, who told him, in a tone and manner which in- 
creased his alarm, that he was to he taken to the resi- 
dence of Bill Sikes that night. 

To — to — stop there, sir ? said Oliver. 

^^Xo, no, my dear, not to stop there,^^ replied the 
Jew. We shouldn’t like to lose you. Don’t he afraid, 
Oliver, you shall come hack to us again. Ha! ha! ha! 
We won’t he so cruel as to send you away, my dear. Oh, 
no, no! I suppose,” continued he, fixing his eyes on 
Oliver, you want to know what you’re going to Bill’s 
for, eh, my dear? ” 

Oliver boldly said yes, he did want to know. 

What do you think? ” inquired Fagin. 

Indeed, I don’t know, sir,” replied Oliver. 

^^Bah!” said the Jew. Wait till Bill tells you, 
then.” The J ew remained very surly until night. Then 
he prepared to go abroad. 

^^You may burn a candle,” said the Jew, putting 
130 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


131 


one on the table. And here’s a book for you to read 
till they come to fetch you. Good night! ” 

Good night/’ replied Oliver softly. 

The Jew walked to the door^ looking over his shoul- 
der at the boy as he went. Suddenly stopping, he called 
him by his name. 

Oliver looked up; the Jew, pointing to the candle, 
motioned him to light it. He did so, and, as he placed 
the candlestick upon the table, saw that the Jew was 
gazing fixedly at him, with lowering and contracted 
brows, from the dark end of the room. 

Take heed, Oliver, take heed! ” said the old man, 
shaking his right hand before him in a warning man- 
ner. He’s a rough man, and thinks nothing of blood 
when his own is up. Whatever falls out say nothing, 
and do what he bids you. Mind! ” 

Oliver leaned his head upon his hand when the old 
man disappeared and pondered, with a trembling heart, 
on the words he had just heard. He remained lost in 
thought for some minutes and then with a heavy sigh 
snuffed the candle, and, taking up the book which the 
Jew had left with him, began to read. 

He turned over the leaves, carelessly at first, but, 
lighting on a passage which attracted his attention, he 
soon became intent upon the volume. It was a history 
of the lives and trials of great criminals, and the pages 
were soiled and thumbed with use. Here he read of 
dreadful crimes that made the blood run cold. 

In a paroxysm of fear the boy closed the book and 
thrust it from him. Then falling upon his knees, he 
prayed Heaven to spare him from such deeds, and rather 
to will that he should die at once than be reserved for 
crimes so fearful and appalling. By degrees he grew 
more calm, and besought, in a low and broken voice, 
that he might be rescued from his present dangers, and 


132 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


that if any aid were to be raised up for a poor outcast 
boy^ who had never known the love of friends or kin- 
dred, it might come to him now, when, desolate and de- 
serted, he stood alone in the midst of wickedness and 
gnilt. 

He had concluded his prayer, hut still remained with 
his head buried in his hands when a rustling noise 
aroused him. 

WhaFs that ? he cried, starting up and catch- 
ing sight of a figure standing by the door. AVho's 
there? 

Me, only me,^^ replied a tremulous voice. 

Oliver raised the candle above his head and looked 
toward the door. It was Nancy. 

Put dowm the light,^^ said the girl, turning away 
her head. It hurts my eyes.^^ 

Oliver saw at once that she was very pale, and gently 
inquired if she were ill. The girl threw herself into a 
chair with her hack toward him and w^rung her hands, 
hut made no reply. 

God forgive me! she cried after a while; I 
never thought of this.^^ 

Has anything happened ? asked Oliver. Can I 
help you? I will if I can. I will, indeed.^^ 

She rocked herself to and fro, caught her throat, 
and, uttering a gurgling sound, gasped for breath. 
^^Nancy,^^ cried Oliver, what is it?^^ 

The girl beat her hands upon her knees and her 
feet upon the floor, and, suddenly stopping, drew her 
shawl close around her and shivered with cold. 

Oliver stirred the fire. Dravdng her chair close to 
it, she sat there for a little time without speaking, but 
at length she raised her head and looked round. 

I donT know what comes over me sometimes,^^ said 
she, affecting to busy herself with her dress; iPs this 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


133 


damp, dirty room, I think. Now, Nolly dear, are you 
ready? 

Am I to go with you ? asked Oliver. 

^^Yes, I have come from BilV’ replied the girl. 

You are to go with me.^^ 

What for? asked Oliver, recoiling. 

‘^^What for ? echoed the girl. Oh, for no 
harm.^^ 

don^t believe said Oliver, who had watched 
her closely. 

Have it you own way; for no good, then. Hush! 
said the girl, stooping over him and pointing to the door 
as she looked cautiously round. You can^t help your- 
self. I have tried hard for you, but all to no purpose. 
You are hedged round and round. If ever you are to 
get loose from here, this is not the time! 

Oliver looked up into her face in great surprise. 
She seemed to speak the truth; her countenance was 
white, and she trembled with very earnestness. 

I have saved you from being ill used once, and I 
will again, and I do,^^ continued the girl aloud, f or those 
who would have fetched you if I had not would have 
been far more rough than me. I have promised for your 
being quiet and silent; if you are not, you will only do 
harm to yourself and me, too, and perhaps be my death. 
See here! I have borne all this for you already, as true 
as God sees me show it! 

She pointed hastily to some bruises on her neck and' 
arms, and continued with great rapidity: 

Eememher this, and don’t let me suffer more for 
you just now. If I could help you I would, hut 
I have not the power. They don’t mean to harm you; 
whatever they make you do is no fault of yours. Hush! 
Every word from you is a blow for me. Give me your 
hand. Make haste! Your hand! ” 


134 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


She caught the hand which Oliver instinctively 
placed in herS;, and^ blowing out the lights drew him 
after her up the stairs. The door was opened quickly 
by some one shrouded in the darkness, and was as 
quickly closed when they had passed out. A carriage 
was in waiting. The driver wanted no directions, but 
lashed his horse into full speed without the delay of 
an instant. 

The girl still held Oliver fast by the hand, and con- 
tinued to pour into his ear the warnings and assurances 
she had already imparted. All was so quick and hur- 
ried that he had scarcely time to recollect where he 
was or how he came there when the carriage stopped 
at the house to which the Jew’s steps had been directed 
on the previous evening. 

For one brief moment Oliver cast a hurried glance 
along the empty street, and a cry of help hung from his 
lips. But the girl’s voice was in his ear, beseeching him 
in such tones of agony to remember her that he had 
not the heart to utter it. "While he hesitated the oppor- 
tunity was gone; he was already in the house, and the 
door was shut. 

This way,” said the girl, releasing her hold for the 
first time. ^^Bill!” 

Halloo!” replied Sikes, appearing at the head of 
the stairs with a candle. Bull’s-eye’s gone home with 
Tom. He’d have been in the way.” 

That’s right,” returned Haney. 

So you’ve got the kid,” said Sikes when they 
had all reached the room, closing the door as he 
spoke. 

Yes, here he is,” replied Haney. 

Did he come quiet ? ” inquired Sikes. 

Like a lamb,” rejoined Haney. 

I am glad to hear it. — Come here, young ’un, and 


THE STOEY OF OLIVEE TWIST. 


135 


let me read you a lectur^ which is as well got over at 
once/^ 

Thus addressing his new pupil, Mr. Sikes pulled 
off Oliver^s cap and threw it into a corner,’ and then, 
taking him by the shoulder, sat himself down by the 
table and stood the boy in front of him. 

Now, first, do you know what this is?^^ inquired 
Sikes, taking up a pocket pistol which lay on the table. 

Oliver replied in the affirmative. 

Well, then, look here,’^ continued Sikes. This 
is powder, that ^ere^s a bullet, and this is a little bit of 
old hat for waddin\ It^s loaded.^^ 

Yes, I see it is, sir,^^ replied Oliver. 

Well,^^ said the robber, grasping Oliver^s wrist and 
putting the barrel so close to his temple that they 
touched, at which moment the boy could not repress 
a start, if you speak a word when you’re out o’ doors 
with me, except when I speak to you, that loading will 
be in your head without notice. So, if you do make up 
your mind to speak without leave, say your prayers 
first. As near as I know there isn’t anybody as would 
he asking very partikler arter you if you was disposed 
of, so I needn’t take the trouble to explain matters to 
you if it warn’t for your own good. D’ye hear me? ” 

The short and long of what you mean,” said Nan- 
cy, ^^is that if you’re crossed by him in this job you 
have on hand you’ll prevent his ever telling tales after- 
ward by shooting him in the head, and will take your 
chance of swinging for it, as you do for a great many 
other things in the way of business every month of vour 
life.” 

That’s it,” observed Mr. Sikes approvingly; 
women can always put things in fewest words. And 
now that he’s thoroughly up to it, let’s have some sup- 
per, and get a snooze before starting.” 


136 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


In pursuance of this request^ Nancy quickly laid the 
cloth; disappearing for a few minutes^ she presently 
returned with a pot of porter and a dish of sheep’s 
head. 

Supper being ended, Oliver stretched himself in his 
clothes, by command of Sikes, on a mattress on the 
floor, and the girl, stirring the fire, sat before it in readi- 
ness to arouse them at the appointed time. 

For a long time Oliver lay awake. Weary with 
watching and anxiety, he ah length fell asleep. 

When he awoke the table was covered with tea 
things, and Sikes was thrusting various articles into 
the pockets of his greatcoat, which hung over the 
chair. Nancy was busily engaged in preparing break- 
fast. It was not yet daylight, for the candle was still 
burning, and it was quite dark outside. A sharp rain, 
too, was heating against the window panes, and the sky 
looked black and cloudy. 

^^Now then!” growled Sikes as Oliver started up; 
half-past five! Look sharp, or you’ll get no break- 
fast, for it’s late as it is.” 

Oliver was not long in making his toilet; having 
taken some breakfast, he replied to a surly inquiry from 
Sikes by saying that he was quite ready. 

Nancy, scarcely looking at the hoy, threw him a 
handkerchief to tie round his throat; Sikes gave him a 
large rough cape to button over his shoulders. Thus 
attired, he gave his hand to the robber, who, merely 
pausing to show him that he had that same pistol in 
a side pocket of his greatcoat, clasped it firmly in his, 
and, exchanging a farewell with Nancy, led him away. 

Oliver turned for an instant when they reached 
the door in the hope of meeting a look from the girl. 
But she had resumed her old seat in front of the fire, 
and sat perfectly motionless before it. 


CHAPTEE XXI. 


It was a cheerless morning when they got into the 
street^ blowing and raining hard, and the clouds looked 
dull and stormy. The night had been very wet, for 
large pools of water had collected in the road. There 
was a faint glimmering of the coming day in the sky, 
hut there appeared to be nobody stirring in that quarter 
of the town, for the windows of the houses were all 
closely shut, and the streets through which they passed 
were noiseless and empty. 

By the time they had turned into the Bethnal Green 
Eoad the day had fairly begun to break. Many of the 
street lamps were already out, a few country wagons 
were slowly toiling on toward London, and now and 
then a stagecoach, covered with mud, rattled briskly 
by. As they approached the city the noise and traffic 
gradually increased, and when they had threaded the 
streets between Shoreditch and Smithfield it had 
swelled into a roar of sound and hustle. It was as light 
as it was likely to he till night came on again, and the 
busy morning of half the London population had 
begun. 

From Smithfield there arose a tumult of jarring 
sounds that filled Oliver Twist with surprise and amaze- 
ment. It was market morning. The ground was cov- 
ered nearly ankle deep with filth and mire, and a thick 
fog, which seemed to rest upon the chimney tops, hung 
137 


138 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


heavily above. The throng of men and animals, the 
confusion of voices and cries, rendered it a stunning 
and bewildering scene which quite confounded the 
senses. 

Mr. Sikes, dragging Oliver after him, elbowed his 
way through the thickest of the crowd, and paid very 
little attention to the sights and sounds which so aston- 
ished the boy. He nodded twice or thrice to a passing 
friend, and pressed steadily onward until they were clear 
of the turmoil and had made their way through Hosier 
Lane into Holborn. 

How, young ^un,” said Sikes crossly, looking up 
at the clock of St. Andrew’s Church, hard upon seven! 
You must step out. Come, don’t lag behind already, 
lazy legs! ” 

Mr. Sikes accompanied this speech with a fierce jerk 
at his little companion’s wrist, and Oliver, quickening 
his pace into a kind of trot between a fast walk and a 
run, kept up with the rapid strides of the housebreaker 
as well as he could. 

They kept on their course at this rate until an empty 
cart, which was at some little distance behind, came up. 
Seeing Hunslow ” written upon it, Sikes asked the 
driver if he would give them a lift as far as Isleworth. 

^‘^Jump up,” said the man good-naturedly, and in 
this way they accomplished the next stage of their 
journey. 

Oliver wondered more and more where his com- 
panion meant to take him. Kensington, Chiswick, Kew 
Bridge, Brentford were all passed, and yet they kept 
steadily on. At length they came to a public house 
called the Coach and Horses, a little way beyond which 
another road appeared to turn off. And here the cart 
stopped. Sikes dismounted with great haste, holding 
Oliver by the hand all the while, and lifting him down 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


139 


directly gave him a furious look;, and rapped the side 
pocket which held his pistol in a very meaning manner. 

Good-by, hoy/^ said the driver. 

He^s sulky/^ said Sikes, giving him a shake — he^s 
sulky — a young dog! Don't mind him, sir." 

Not I," answered the driver, getting into his cart. 

It's a tine day, after all," and he drove away. 

Sikes waited till he had fairly gone, and then tell- 
ing Oliver he might look about him if he wanted, once 
again led him forward on his journey. 

They turned around to the left a short way past the 
public house, and then walked on for a long time, pass- 
ing many large gardens and gentlemen's houses on both 
sides of the way, and stopping for nothing until they 
reached a town in which, against the wall of a house, 
Oliver saw written in pretty large letters Hampton." 
Here they lingered about in the fields for some hours. 
At length they came back into the town, and, keeping 
on by the riverside for a short distance, they came to an 
old public house with a defaced signboard, and or- 
dered some dinner by the kitchen fire. 

The kitchen was an old, low-roofed room, with a 
great beam across the middle of the ceiling and benches 
with high hacks to them by the fire, on which were 
seated several rough men in smockfrocks drinking and 
smoking. They took no notice of Oliver and very little 
of Sikes, and, as Sikes took very little notice of them, 
he and his young comrade sat in a corner by themselves 
without being much troubled by the company. 

They had some cold meat for dinner, and sat here 
so long after it that Oliver began to feel quite certain 
they were not going any further. Being much tired 
with the walk and getting up so early, he dozed a little 
at first, and then, quite overpowered by fatigue and to- 
bacco fumes, he fell fast asleep. 


140 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


It was dark when he was awakened by a push from 
Sikes. Rousing himself sufficiently to sit up and look 
about him, he found that gentleman in close fellowship 
with a laboring man over a pint of ale. 

Could you give my boy and me a lift ? demanded 
Sikes, pushing the ale toward his new friend. 

If you’re going directly, I can,” replied the man. 

Are you going to Halliford? ” 

Going on to Shepperton,” answered Sikes. 

I’m your man as far as I go,” replied the other, 
seizing Sikes by the hand and declaring he was a real 
good fellow. 

After the exchange of a few compliments, they bade 
the company good night and went out. The horse was 
standing outside, ready harnessed to the cart. Oliver 
and Sikes got in without any further ceremony, and 
the man to whom he belonged, having lingered a min- 
ute or two to bear him up,” mounted also. Then they 
started off at great speed,- and rattled out of the town 
right gallantly. 

Sunbury was passed through, and they came again 
into the lonely road. Two or three miles more and the 
cart stopped. Sikes alighted, and taking Oliver by the 
hand they once again walked on. 

They turned into no house at Shepperton, as the 
weary hoy had expected, hut still kept walking on in 
mud and darkness until they came within sight of the 
lights of a town at no great distance. On looking in- 
tently forward, Oliver saw that the water was just below 
them, and that they were coming to the foot of a bridge. 

Sikes kept straight on till they were close upon the 
bridge, and then turned suddenly down a bank upon 
the left. The water! ” thought Oliver, turning sick 
with fear. He has brought me to this lonely place to 
murder me! ” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 141 

He was about to throw himself on the ground and 
make one struggle for his young life when he saw that 
they stood before a solitary house^, all ruinous and de- 
caying. There was a window on each side of the dilapi- 
dated entrance, and one story above, but no light was 
visible. 

It was dark, dismantled, and to all appearances un- 
inhabitated. 

Sikes, with Oliver^s hand still in his, softly ap- 
proached the low porch and raised the latch. The door 
yielded to the pressure, and they passed in together. 


0 


CHAPTEE XXII. 


Halloo! cried a loud^ hoarse voice as soon as 
they set foot in the passage. 

Don^t make such a row/^ said Sikes, bolting the 
door. Show a glim, Toby.^^ 

^^Aha! my pal! cried the same voice. A glim, 
Barney, a glim! Show the gentleman in, Barney; wake 
up first, if convenient.^^ 

The speaker appeared to throw a bootjack or some 
such article at the person he addressed to rouse him 
from his slumbers, for the noise of a wooden body fall- 
ing violently was heard. 

Do you hear? cried the same voice. There’s 
Bill Sikes in the passage, and nobody to do the civil 
to him. Are you any fresher now, or do you want the 
iron candlestick to wake you thoroughly?” 

A pair of slipshod feet shuffled hastily across the 
bare floor of the room, and there issued from a door on 
the right hand first a feeble candle and next the form 
of an individual who has been heretofore described. 

Bister Sikes!” exclaimed Barney with real joy. 

Cub id, sir, cub id.” 

Here, you get on first,” said Sikes, putting Oliver 
in front of him. Quicker, or I shall tread upon your 
heels! ” 

Sikes pushed Oliver before him, and they entered a 
low, dark room with a smoky Are, two or three broken 
143 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


143 


chairs^ a table, and a very old couch, on which, with 
his legs much higher than his head, a man was reposing 
at full length, smoking a long clay pipe. He was 
dressed in a smartly cut snuff-colored coat, with large 
brass buttons, an orange neckerchief, a coarse, staring, 
shawl-pattern waistcoat, and drab breeches. Mr. Crackit 
(for it was he) had no very great quantity of hair either 
upon his head or face, but what he had was of reddish 
dye and tortured into long corkscrew curls, through 
which he occasionally thrust some very dirty fingers 
ornamented with large common rings. He was a trifle 
above the middle size, and apparently rather weak in 
the legs. 

Bill, my boy,^^ said this figure, turning his head 
toward the door, I^m glad to see you. I was almost 
afraid youM given it up, in which case I should have 
made a personal wenture. Halloo! 

Uttering this exclamation in a tone of great sur- 
prise as his eye rested on Oliver, Mr. Toby Crackit 
brought himself into a sitting posture and demanded 
who that was. 

The boy, only the boy! replied Sikes, drawing a 
chair toward the fire. 

Wud of Mr. Fagin’s lads,^^ exclaimed Barney with 
a grin. 

Fagin^s, eh ? exclaimed Toby, looking at Oliver. 
^^Wot an invalable boy thatfil make for the old ladies^ 
pockets in chapels! His mug is a fortun’ to him.’’ 

There — there’s enough of that,” interposed Sikes 
impatiently, and stooping over whispered a few words 
in his ear, at which Mr. Crackit laughed and honored 
Oliver with a long stare of astonishment. 

FTow,” said Sikes, as he resumed his seat, if you’ll 
give us something to eat and drink while we are wait- 
ing you’ll put some heart in us, or in me, at all events. — 
11 


lU 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Sit down by the fire and rest yourself, for youTl have 
to go out with us again to-night, though not very far 
ofl,” 

Oliver looked at Sikes in mute and timid wonder, 
and, drawing a stool to the fire, sat with his aching 
head upon his hands, scarcely knowing where he was 
or what was passing round him. 

Here,^^ said Toby, as the young Jew placed some 
fragments of food and a bottle upon the table, success 
to the crack! 

After eating and drinking, the two men laid them- 
selves down on chairs for a short nap. Oliver retained 
his stool by the fire; Barney, wrapped in a blan- 
ket, stretched himself on the floor close outside the 
fender. 

They slept or appeared to sleep for some time, no- 
body stirring but Barney, who rose once or twice to 
throw coals upon the fire. Oliver fell into a heavy doze, 
imagining himself straying along the gloomy lanes or 
wandering about the dark churchyards, when he was 
roused by Toby Crackit jumping up and declaring it 
was half-past one. 

In an instant the other two were on their legs, and 
all were actively engaged in busy preparation. Sikes 
and his companion enveloped their necks and chins in 
large dark shawls, and drew on their greatcoats. Barney 
opening a cupboard, brought forth several articles, 
which he hastily crammed into the pockets. 

Barkers for me, Barney,^^ said Toby Crackit. 

Here they are,^^ replied Barney, producing a pair 
of pistols. You loaded them yourself. 

^^All right! replied Toby, stowing them away. 

The persuaders? 

IVe got replied Sikes. 

Crape, keys, centerbits, darkies — nothing forgot- 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


145 


ten ? inquired Toby, fastening a small crowbar to a 
loop inside the skirt of his coat. 

All Tight/’ rejoined his companion. Bring the 
bits of timber, Barney. ThaBs the time of day!’’ 

With these words he took a thick stick from 
Barney’s hands, who, having delivered another to Toby, 
busied himself in fastening on Oliver’s cape. 

Now then! ” said Sikes, holding out his hand. 

Oliver put his hand into that which Sikes extended 
for that purpose. 

Take his other hand, Toby,” said Sikes. Look 
out, Barney.” 

The man went to the door and returned to an- 
nounce that all was quiet. The two robbers issued 
forth with Oliver between them. Barney, having made 
all fast, rolled himself up as before, and was soon asleep 
again. 

It was intensely dark. The fog was much heavier 
than it had been in the early part of the night, and the 
atmosphere was so damp that, although no rain fell, 
Oliver’s hair and eyebrows within a few minutes after 
leaving the house had become stiff with the half-frozen 
moisture that was floating about. They crossed the 
bridge and kept on toward the lights which he had seen 
before. They were at no great distance off, and as they 
walked pretty briskly they soon arrived at Chertsey. 

Slap through the town,” whispered Sikes; ^Hhere’ll 
be nobody in the way to-night to see us.” 

Toby consented, and they hurried through the main 
street of the little town, which at that late hour was 
wholly deserted. A dim light shone at intervals from 
some bedroom window, and the hoarse barking of dogs 
occasionally broke the silence of the night. But there 
was nobody abroad. They had cleared the town as the 
church bell struck two. 


146 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Quickening their pace^ they turned up a road on the 
left hand. After walking about a quarter of a mile^ 
they stopped before a detached house surrounded by a 
wall, to the top of which Toby Crackit, scarcely paus- 
ing to take breath, climbed in a twinkling. 

The hoy nexV^ said Toby. Hoist him up; I’ll 
catch hold of him.” 

Before Oliver had time to look around Sikes had 
caught him under the arms, and in three or four seconds 
he and Toby were lying on the grass on the other side. 
Sikes followed directly, and they stole cautiously toward 
the house. 

And now for the first time Oliver, well-nigh mad 
with grief and terror, saw that housebreaking and rob- 
bery, if not murder, were the objects of the expedition. 
A mist came before his eyes, the cold sweat stood upon 
his ashy face, his limbs failed him, and he sunk upon 
his knees. 

Oet up! ” murmured Sikes, trembling with rage 
and drawing the pistol from his pocket; get up, or 
I’ll strew your brains upon the grass! ” 

Oh, let me go ! ” cried Oliver; let me run away 
and die in the fields. I will never come near London — 
never, never! Oh, pray have mercy upon me, and do 
not make me steal! For the love of all the bright angels 
that rest in heaven, have mercy upon me! ” 

The man to whom this appeal was made swore a 
dreadful oath, and had cocked the pistol, when Toby, 
striking it from his grasp, placed his hand upon the 
boy’s mouth and dragged him to the house. 

^^Hush!” cried the man; ^^it won’t answer here. 
Say another word, and I’ll do your business myself with 
a crack on the head. That makes no noise, and is quite 
as certain and more genteel. Here, Bill, wrench the 
shutter open. He’s game enough now. I’ll engage. I’ve 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


147 


seen older hands of his age took the same way for a min- 
ute or two on a cold night/^ 

Sikes plied the crowbar vigorously, hut with little 
noise. After some delay and some assistance from Toby, 
the shutter to which he had referred swung open upon 
its hinges. 

It was a little latticed window, about five feet and 
a half above the ground, at the back of the house at 
the end of the passage. The opening was so small that 
the inmates had probably not thought it worth while to 
defend it more securely, hut it was large enough to 
admit a boy Oliver^s size, nevertheless. A very brief 
exercise of Mr. Sikes’s art sufficed to overcome the 
fastening of the lattice, and it soon stood wide open 
also. 

^^JSTow listen, you young limb!” whispered Sikes, 
drawing a dark lantern from his pocket and throwing a 
glare full on Oliver’s face: I’m agoing to put you 
through there. Take this light, go softly up the steps 
straight afore you and along the little hall to the street 
door; unfasten it, and let us in.” 

There’s a bolt at the top you won’t he able to 
reach,” said Toby. Stand upon one of the hall 
chairs.” 

‘^^Keep quiet, can’t you?” replied Sikes with a 
threatening look. The room door is open, is it?” 
peeping in to satisfy himself. The game of that is 
that they always leave it open with a catch so that the 
dog, who’s got a bed in here, may walk up and down the 
passage when he feels wakeful. Ha! ha! Barney ’ticed 
him away to-night. So neat! ” 

Although Mr. Crackit spoke in a whisper and 
laughed without noise, Sikes commanded him to he 
silent and get to work. Toby complied by first pro- 
ducing his lantern and placing it on the ground, then 


148 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


by planting himself firmly with his head against the 
wall beneath the window and his hands upon his knees, 
so as to make a step of his back. This was no sooner 
done than Sikes, mounting upon him, put Oliver gently 
through the window with his feet first, and, without 
leaving hold of his collar, planted him safely on the 
fioor inside. 

Take this lantern,’^ said Sikes, looking into the 
room. ^^You see the stairs afore you?^^ 

Oliver, more dead than alive, gasped out Yes.’’ 
Sikes, pointing to the street door with the pistol barrel, 
briefiy advised him to take notice that he was within 
shot all the way, and that if he faltered he would fall 
dead that instant. 

It’s done in a minute,” said Sikes in the same low 
whisper. Directly I leave go of you do your work. 
Hark! ” 

What’s that ? ” whispered the other man. 

They listened intently. 

Nothing,” said Sikes, releasing his hold of Oliver. 
^'Now!” 

In the short time he had had to collect his senses 
the boy had firmly resolved that, whether he died in 
the attempt or not, he would make one effort to dart 
upstairs from the hall and alarm the family. Filled 
with this idea, he advanced at once, but stealthily. 

Come back! ” suddenly cried Sikes aloud — ^^back! 
back! ” 

Scared by the sudden breaking of the dead stillness 
of the place and by a loud cry which followed it, Oliver 
let his lantern fall, and knew not whether to advance 
or fly. 

The cry was repeated, a light appeared, a vision of 
two terrified half-dressed men at the top of the stairs 
before his eyes, a flash, a loud noise, a smoke, a crash 














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THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


149 


somewhere, but where he knew not, and he struggled 
back. 

Sikes had disappeared for an instant, but he was up 
again and had him by the collar before the smoke had 
cleared away. He fired his own pistol after the men, 
who were already retreating, and dragged the boy up. 

Clasp your arm tighter! said Sikes as he drew 
him through the window. Give me a shawl here. 
TheyVe hit him. Quick! How the boy bleeds! 

Then came the loud ringing of a bell, mingled with 
the noise of firearms and the shouts of men and the 
sensation of being carried over uneven ground at a 
rapid pace. And then the noises grew confused in the 
distance, and a cold deadly feeling crept over the boy^s 
heart, and he saw or heard no more. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


The night was bitter cold. The snow lay on the 
gronn(^ frozen into a hard thick crnst, so that only 
the heaps which had drifted into the byways and cor- 
ners were affected by the sharp wind that howled 
abroad. Bleak^ dark^ and piercing cold, it was a night 
for the well-housed and fed to draw round the bright 
fire and thank God they were at home. 

Such was the aspect of outdoor affairs when Mrs. 
Corney, the matron of the workhouse to which our read- 
ers have already been introduced as the birthplace of 
Oliver Twist, sat herself down before a cheerful fire in 
her own little room and glanced, with no small degree 
of pleasure, at a small round table, on which stood a 
tray furnished with all necessary materials for the most 
grateful meal that matrons enjoy. In fact, Mrs. Corney 
was about to console herself with a cup of tea. ■ 

^^Well,^^ she said, leaning her elbow on the table 
and looking reflectively at the fire, I^m sure we have 
all on us a great deal to he grateful for! A great deal, 
if we did hut know it. Ah! 

But the small teapot and the single cup awakened 
in her mind sad recollections of Mr. Corney (who had 
been dead more than five-and-twenty years), and she was 
suddenly overpowered. 

I shall never get another,’^ said Mrs. Corney — I 
shall never get another — like him.^^ 

150 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


151 


She had just tasted her first cup when she was dis- 
turbed by a soft tap at the room door. 

Oh, come in with you! said Mrs. Corney sharply. 
Some of the old women dying, I suppose. They al- 
ways die when I’m at meals. Don’t stand there, letting 
the cold air in, don’t. What’s amiss now, eh?” 

Nothing, ma’am, nothing,” replied a man’s voice. 

Dear me! ” exclaimed the matron in a much sweet- 
er tone, is that Mr. Bumble? ” 

At your service, ma’am,” said Mr. Bumble, who 
had been stopping outside to rub his shoes clean and to 
shake the snow off his coat, and who now made his 
appearance, bearing the cocked hat in one hand 
and a bundle in the other. Shall I shut the door, 
ma’am ? ” 

The lady hesitated, and, being very cold himself, he 
shut it without further permission. 

Hard weather, Mr. Bumble,” said the matron. 

Hard indeed, ma’am,” replied the beadle, stooping 
to unpack his bundle. This is the port wine, ma’am, 
that the board ordered for the infirmary — real, fresh, 
genuine port wine, only out of the cask this afternoon, 
clear as a bell, and no sediment! ” 

♦ Having held the first bottle up to the light and 
shaken it well to test its excellence, Mr. Bumble placed 
them both on the top of a chest of drawers, folded the 
handkerchief in which they had been wrapped, put it 
carefully in his pocket, and took up his hat as if to go. 

You’ll have a very cold walk, Mr. Bumble,” said 
the matron. 

It blows, ma’am,” replied Mr. Bumble, turning up 
his coat collar, enough to cut one’s ears off.” 

The matron looked from the little kettle to the 
beadle, who was moving toward the door, and, as the 
beadle coughed, preparatory to bidding her good night. 


152 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


bashfully inquired whether — whether he wouldn’t have 
a cup of tea. 

Mr. Bumble at once turned back his collar again, 
laid his hat and stick upon a chair, and drew another 
chair up to the table. As he slowly seated himself, he 
looked at the lady. She fixed her eyes upon the little 
teapot. Mr. Bumble coughed again, and slightly 
smiled. 

Mrs. Corney rose to get another cup and saucer from 
the closet. As she sat down, her eyes once again en- 
countered those of the gallant beadle; she colored, and 
applied herself to the task of making his tea. 

Sweet, Mr. Bumble ? ” inquired the matron, tak- 
ing up the sugar basin. 

^^Very sweet, indeed, ma’am,” replied Mr. Bumble. 
He fixed his eyes on Mrs. Corney as he said this, and 
if ever a beadle looked tender, Mr. Bumble was that 
beadle at that moment. 

The tea was made and handed in silence. Mr. Bum- 
ble, having spread a handkerchief over his knees to pre- 
vent the crumbs from marring the splendor of his 
breeches, began to eat and drink, varying these amuse- 
ments occasionally by fetching a deep sigh. 

At this critical moment they were interrupted by a 
hasty knock at the door, which was no sooner heard 
than Mr. Bumble darted quickly to the wine bottles 
and began dusting them with great violence, while the 
matron sharply demanded who was there. 

If you please, mistress,” said a withered old woman, 
hideously ugly, putting her head in at the door, old 
Sally is agoing fast.” 

^^Well, what’s that to me?” angrily demanded the 
matron. I can’t keep her alive, can I ? ” 

Ho, no, mistress,” replied the old woman, ^^nobody 
can; she’s far beyond the reach of help. I’ve seen 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


153 


a-many people die — little babes and great strong men — 
and I know when death^s a-coming well enough. But 
she’s troubled in her mind, and when the fits are not on 
her — and that’s not often, for she is dying very hard— 
she said she has got something to tell which you must 
hear. She’ll never die quiet till you come, mistress.” 

At this information the worthy Mrs. Corney began 
to abuse old women who couldn’t even die without pur- 
posely annoying their betters, and, muffling herself in 
a thick shawl which she hastily caught up, brieffy asked 
Mr. Bumble to stay till she came back lest anything 
particular should occur; and bidding the messenger 
walk fast, and not be all night hobbling up the stairs, 
followed her from the room with a very ill grace, scold- 
ing all the way. 

Mr. Bumble’s conduct on being left to himself was 
rather hard to explain. He opened the closet, counted 
the teaspoons, weighed the sugar tongs, closely in- 
spected a silver milk pot to see whether it was of the 
genuine metal, and having satisfied his curiosity on these 
points, put on his cocked hat cornerwise and danced 
with much gravity four distinct times round the table. 
Having gone through this very extraordinary perform- 
ance, he took off the cocked hat again, and, spreading 
himself before the fire with his back toward it, seemed 
to be mentally engaged in taking an exact inventory of 
the furniture. 


CHAPTEE XXIY. 


It was no unfit messenger of Death who had dis- 
turbed the quiet of the matron’s room. 

The old crone tottered along the passages and up 
the stairs, muttering some indistinct answers to the 
childings of her companion. Being at length compelled 
to pause for breath, she gave the light into her hand 
and remained behind to follow as she might, while the 
more nimble superior made her way to the room where 
the sick woman lay. 

It was a bare garret room, with a dim light burning 
in the farther end. There was another old woman 
watching by the bed; the parish apothecary’s appren- 
tice was standing by the fire, making a toothpick out 
of a quill. 

Cold night, Mrs. Corney,” said this young gentle- 
man as the matron entered. 

Cold night, indeed, sir,” replied the mistress in 
her most civil tones, and dropping a courtesy as she 
spoke. 

You should get better coals out of your contract- 
ors,” said the apothecary’s deputy, breaking a lump on 
the top of the fire with the rusty poker. They’re not 
at all the sort of thing for a cold night.” 

They’re the board’s choosing, sir,” returned the 
matron. The least they could do would be to keep us 
pretty warm, for our places are hard enough.” 

154 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


155 


The conversation was here interrupted by a moan 
from the sick woman. 

Oh/^ said- the young man^ turning his face toward 
the bed;, as if he had previously quite forgotten the 
patient, it^s all U P there, Mrs. Corney.^^ 

It is, is it, sir? asked the matron. 

If she lasts a couple of hours, I shall he surprised,^^ 
said the apothecary^s apprentice, intent upon the tooth- 
pick^s point. IPs a break-up of the system altogether. 
Is she dozing, old lady? 

The attendant stooped over the bed to ascertain, 
and nodded in the affirmative. 

Then perhaps shehl go off in that way if you don’t 
make a row,” said the young man. Put the light on 
the floor. She won’t see it there.” 

The attendant did as she was told. The mistress, 
with an expression of impatience, wrapped herself in 
her shawl and sat at the foot of the bed. 

When they had sat in silence for some time, the two 
old women rose from the bed, and crouching over the 
fire held out their withered hands to catch the heat. 

While they were thus employed the matron, who 
had been impatiently watching until the dying woman 
should awaken from her stupor, joined them by the 
fire, and sharply asked how long she was to wait. 

^^Not long, mistress,” replied the second woman, 
looking up into her face. We have none of us long to 
wait for Death. Patience, patience! He’ll be here soon 
enough for us all.” 

Tell me, has she been in this way before ? ” 
Often,” answered the first woman. 

But will never he again,” added the second one; 
^^that is, she’ll never wake again but once, and mind, 
mistress, that won’t he for long! ” 

Long or short,” said the matron snappishly, she 


156 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


won’t find me here when she does wake; take care, both 
of yon, how you worry me again for nothing. It’s no 
part of my duty to see all the old women in the house 
die, and I won’t — that’s more.” 

She was bouncing away when a cry from the two 
women, who had turned toward the bed, caused her to 
look round. The patient had raised herself upright, 
and was stretching her arms toward them. 

^^Wot’s that?” she cried in a hollow voice. 

Hush, hush!” said one of the women, stooping 
over her. Lie down, lie down! ” 

^^I’ll never lie down again alive! ” said the woman, 
struggling. will tell her! Come here! Nearer! 

Let me whisper in your ear.” 

She clutched the matron by the arm, and, forcing 
her into a chair by the bedside, was about to speak 
when, looking round, she caught sight of the two 
old women bending forward in the attitude of eager 
listeners. 

Turn them away! ” said the woman drowsily. 

Make haste! make haste! Now listen to me,” said the 
dying woman aloud, as if making a great effort to revive 
one latent spark of energy. In this very room — in this 
very bed — I once nursed a pretty young creetur that was 
brought into the house with her feet cut and bruised with 
walking, and all soiled with dust and blood. She soon 
died and left a little boy in my care. Let me think — 
what was the year again? ” 

Never mind the year,” said the matron; what 
about her? ” 

Ay,” murmured the sick woman, relapsing into 
her former drowsy state, what about her? what about 
— I know! ” she cried, jumping fiercely up, her face 
flushed and her eyes starting from her head — 1 robbed 
her, so I did! ” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


157 


^^Eobbed her of what?^^ cried the matron with a 
gesture as if she would call for help. 

It! replied the woman, laying her hand over the 
woman^s mouth. The only thing she had. She wanted 
clothes to keep her warm and food to eat, but she had 
kept it safe, and had it in her boson. It was gold, I tell 
you! Eich gold, that might have saved her life! 

Gold! echoed the matron, bending eagerly over 
the woman as she fell back. Go on, go on — yes — 
what of it? Who was the mother? When was it?^^ 

She charged me to keep it saf e,^^ replied the woman 
with a groan, and trusted me as the only woman about 
her. I stole it in my heart when she first showed it to 
me hanging round her neck, and the child^s death, 
perhaps, is on me besides! They would have treated 
him better if they had known it all! 

Known what?’^ asked the other. Speak! 

The boy grew so like his mother that I could 
never forget it when I saw his face. Poor girl! poor 
girl! She was so young, too! Such a gentle lamb! 
Wait, there^s more to tell. I have not told you all, 
have I ?^^ 

^^Ko, no! replied the matron, inclining her head 
to catch the words as they came more faintly from the 
dying woman. Be quick, or it might be too late! 

The mother,^^ said the woman — ^Ghe mother, when 
the pains of death first came upon her, whispered in 
my ear that if her little boy lived and thrived the day 
might come when it would not feel so much disgraced 
to hear iPs poor young mother named. ^ And oh, kind 
Heaven! ’ she said, folding her thin hands together, 
^ raise up some friends for it in this troubled world, 
and take pity upon a lonely, desolate child abandoned 
to its mercy! ’ 

The boy^s name?” demanded the matron. 


158 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


They called him Oliver/^ replied the woman feebly. 

The gold I stole was 

Yes, yes, what?^^ cried the other. 

She was bending eagerly over the woman to hear her 
reply, but she only uttered some indistinct sounds in her 
throat and fell lifeless on the bed. 

Dead! said the old women, hurrying in as soon 
as the door was opened. 

‘^^And nothing to tell, after all,’^ said the matron, 
walking carelessly away. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


While these things were passing in the country 
workhouse, Mr. Fagin sat in the old den — the same 
from which Oliver had been removed by the girl — 
brooding over a dull, smoky fire. He had a pair of bel- 
lows upon his knees, with which he had apparently 
been trying to rouse it, but he had fallen into a deep 
thought, and with his arms folded on them and his chin 
resting on his thumbs, fixed his eyes on the rusty bars. 

At a table behind him sat the Artful Dodger, Mas- 
ter Charley Bates, and Mr. Chitling, all intent upon a 
game of whist, the Artful taking dummy against Mas- 
ter Bates and Mr. Chitling. 

ThaPs two doubles and the rub,^^ said Mr. Chit- 
ling, with a very long face, as he drew half a crown 
from his waist pocket. I never, never see such a fel- 
low as you. Jack; you win everything. Even when 
we’ve got good cards, Charley and I can’t make nothing 
of ’em.” 

Hark! ” cried the Dodger at this moment; I 
heard the tinkler.” Catching up the light, he crept 
softly upstairs. 

The bell was rung again with some impatience while 
the party were in darkness. After a short pause the 
Dodger reappeared and whispered to Fagin mysteri- 
ously. 

^^What!” cried the Jew, alone?” 

12 159 


160 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


The Dodger nodded in the affirmative, and, shading 
the flame of the candle with his hand, gave Charley 
Bates a private hint in dnmb show that he had better 
not be funny just then. Having performed this friendly 
office, he fixed his eyes on the Jew^s face and awaited 
his directions. 

The old man bit his yellow fingers and meditated 
for some seconds, his face working with agitation the 
while, as if he dreaded something and feared to know 
the worst. At length he raised his head. 

Where is he ? he asked. 

The Dodger pointed to the floor above, and made 
a gesture as if to leave the room. 

Y^es,^^ said the Jew, answering the mute inquiry, 
bring him down. Hush! Quiet, Charley! Gently, 
Tom! Scarce, scarce! 

This brief direction to Charley Bates and his recent 
foe was softly and immediately obeyed. There was no 
sound of their whereabout when the Dodger descended 
the stairs, bearing the light in his hand, and followed 
by a man in a coarse smockfrock, who, after casting a 
hurried glance round the room, pulled off a large wrap- 
per which had concealed the lower portion of his face 
and disclosed, all haggard, unwashed, and unshorn, the 
features of flash Toby Crackit. 

How are you, Fagey ? said this worthy, nodding 
to the J ew. Pop that shawl away. Dodger, so that I 
may know where to find it when I cut; that’s the time 
of day.” 

With these words he pulled off the smockfrock, 
and, winding it round his middle, drew a chair to the 
fire and placed his feet upon the fender. 

See there, Fagey,” he said, pointing sadly .to his 
top-boots, ^^not a bubble of blacking since you know 
when! But don’t look at me in that way, man. All 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


161 


in good time; I can’t talk about business till I’ve eat 
and drank, so produce the stuff and let’s have' a quiet 
fill-out for the first time these three days.” 

The Jew motioned to the Dodger to place what eat- 
ables there were upon the table, and, seating himself 
opposite the housebreaker, waited his leisure. 

Toby continued to eat with the utmost outward in- 
difference until he could eat no more; then ordering 
the Dodger out, he closed the door, mixed a glass of 
spirits and water, and composed himself for talking. 

First and foremost, Fagey,” said Toby. 

Yes, yes!” interposed the Jew, drawing up his 
chair with eagerness. 

First and foremost, Fagey,” said the housebreaker, 
how’s Bill?” 

^^What?” screamed the Jew, starting from his 
seat. 

^^Why, you don’t mean to say ” began Toby, 

turning pale. 

^^Mean! ” cried the Jew, stamping furiously on the 
ground. Where are they — Sikes and the boy? Where 
are they? Where have they been? Where are they 
hiding? Why have they not been here? ” 

The crack failed,” said Toby faintly, 
know it,” replied the Jew, tearing a newspaper 
from his pocket and pointing to it. What more? ” 

They fired and hit the boy. We cut over the fields 
at the back with him between us — straight as the crow 
flies — through hedge and ditch. They gave chase. The 
whole country was awake, and the dogs upon us.” 

The boy! ” gasped the Jew. 

Bill had him on his back and scudded like the 
wind. We stopped to take him between us; his head 
hung down, and he was cold. They were close upon our 
heels, every man for himself and each from the gallows. 


162 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


We parted company, and left the youngster lying 
in a ditch. Alive or dead, thafs all I know about 
him.^^ 

The Jew stopped to hear no more, hut, uttering a 
loud yell and twining his hands in his hair, rushed from 
the room and from the house. 


CHAPTEE XXVI. 


The old man had gained the street corner before 
he began to recover the effect of Toby Crackit’s intelli- 
gence. He had relaxed nothing of his unusual speedy 
but was still pressing onward in the same wild and dis- 
ordered manner, when the sudden dashing past of a 
carriage and a boisterous cry from the foot passengers 
who saw his danger drove him back upon the pavement. 
He at length emerged on Snow Hill. Here he walked 
even faster than before, nor did he linger until he 
had again turned into a court, when, as if conscious 
that he was now in his proper element, he fell into 
his usual shuffling pace and seemed to breathe more 
freely. 

In its filthy shops are exposed for sale huge bunches 
of second-hand handkerchiefs, of all sizes and patterns, 
for here reside the traders who purchase them from 
pickpockets. Hundreds of these handkerchiefs hang 
dangling from pegs outside the windows or flaunting 
from the doorposts, and the shelves within are piled 
with them. 

It was into this place that the Jew turned. He was 
well known to the sallow inhabitants of the lane, for 
such of them as were on the lookout to buy or sell 
nodded familiarly as he passed along. At the farther 
end of the alley he stopped to address a salesman of 
small stature, who had squeezed as much of his person 
163 


164 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


into a child’s chair as the chair would hold^ and was 
smoking a pipe at his warehouse door. 

Why, .the sight of you, Mr. Fagin, is good!” said 
this respectable trader in acknowledgment of the Jew’s 
inquiry after his health. 

The neighborhood was a little too hot. Lively,” 
said Fagin, elevating his eyebrows and crossing his 
hands upon his shoulders. 

Well, I’ve heerd that complaint of it once or twice 
before,” replied the trader, but it soon cools down 
again. Don’t you find it so? ” 

Fagin nodded in the affirmative. Pointing in the 
direction of Saffron Hill, he inquired whether any one 
was up yonder to-night. 

^^At The Cripples?” inquired the man. 

The Jew nodded. 

Let me see,” pursued the merchant, reflecting. 

Yes, there’s some half dozen of ’em gone in, that I 
knows. I don’t think your friend’s there.” 

Sikes is not, I suppose ? ” inquired the J ew with a 
disappointed countenance. 

Are you going to The Cripples, Fagin? ” cried the 
little man, calling after him. 

But as the Jew, looking hack, waved his hand to 
intimate that he preferred being alone, and moreover, 
as the little man could not very easily disengage him- 
self from the chair, the sign of The Cripples was for a 
time bereft of the advantage of Mr. Lively’s presence. 
By the time he had got upon his legs the Jew had dis- 
appeared. 

The Three Cripples, or rather The Cripples, which 
was the sign by which the establishment was familiarly 
known to its patrons, was the public house in which 
Mr. Sikes and his dog have already figured. Merely 
making a sign to a man atj^the bar, Fagin walked 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


165 


straight upstairs^, and^ opening the door of a room, 
shaded his eyes with his hands as if in search of some 
particular person. 

The room was illuminated by two gaslights, the glare 
of which was prevented, by the barred shutters and 
closely drawn curtains of faded red, from being visible 
outside. The ceiling was blackened to prevent its color 
from being injured by the flaring of the lamps, and the 
place was so full of dense tobacco smoke that at first 
it was scarcely possible to discern anything more. By 
degrees, however, as some of it cleared away through 
the open door, an assemblage of heads, as confused as 
the noise that greeted the ear, might be made out, and 
as the eye grew more accustomed to the scene the 
spectator gradually became aware of the presence of a 
numerous company, male and female, crowded around 
a long table, at the upper end of which sat a chairman 
with a hamiiier of office in his hand, while a professional 
gentleman, with a bluish nose and his face tied up for 
the benefit of a toothache, presided at a jingling piano 
in a remote corner. 

Fagin, troubled by no grave emotions, looked eagerly 
from face to face without meeting that of which he was 
in search. Succeeding at length in catching the eye of 
the man who occupied the chair, he beckoned him 
slightly, and left the room as quietly as he had en- 
tered it. 

What can I do for you, Mr. Fagin ? inquired the 
man as he followed him out to the landing. Won’t 
you join us? TheyTl be delighted, every one of ’em.” 

The Jew shook his head impatiently, and said in a 
whisper, Is he here?” 

hTo,” replied the man. 

And no news of Barney?” inquired Fagin. 

A^Hone,” replied the landlord of The Cripples, for 


166 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


it was he. He won^t stir till it’s all safe. Depend on 
it, they’re on the scent down there, and if he moved 
he’d blow upon the thing at once. He’s all right 
enough, Barney is, else I should have heard of him.” 

Will he he here to-night? ” asked the Jew. 

Monks, do you mean ? ” inquired the landlord, 
hesitating. 

Hush! ” said the Jew. Yes.” 

Certain,” replied the man, drawing a gold watch 
from his fob; I expected him before now. If you’ll 
wait ten minutes, he’ll. he ” 

Ho, no,” said the Jew hastily, as though, however 
desirous he might he to see the person in question, he 
was nevertheless relieved by his absence. Tell him I 
came here to see him, and that he must come to me 
to-night. Ho, say to-morrow. As he is not here, to- 
morrow will he time enough.” 

Good! ” said the man. Hothing more? ” 

^^Hot a word now,” said the Jew, descending the 
stairs. 

The Jew was no sooner alone than his countenance 
resumed its former expression of anxiety and thought. 
After a brief reflection, he called a hack and bade the 
man drive toward Bethnal Green. He dismissed him 
within some quarter of a mile of Mr. Sikes’s residence, 
and performed the short remainder of the distance on 
foot. 

How,” muttered the Jew, as he knocked at the 
door, ^^if there is any deep play here I shall have it 
out of you, my girl, cunning as you are.” 

Fagin crept softly upstairs and entered the room 
without rapping. 

The girl was alone, lying with her head upon the 
table and her hair straggling over it. 

The old man turned to close the door, and the noise 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


167 


roused the girl. She eyed his face narrowly as he in- 
quired whether there was any news^ and. as she listened 
to his recital of Toby Crackit^s story. When it was con- 
cluded she sank into her former attitude, hut spoke not 
a word. 

During the silence the Jew looked restlessly about 
the room, as if to assure himself that there was no ap- 
pearance of Sikes having covertly returned. Appar- 
ently satisfied with his inspection, he coughed twice or 
thrice, and made as many efforts to open a conversa- 
tion, but the girl heeded him no more than if he had 
been made of stone. At length he made another at- 
tempt, and, rubbing his hands together, said in his most 
conciliatory tone: 

^^And where should you think Bill was now, my 
dear?^^ 

The girl moaned out some reply that she could not 
tell, and seemed from the smothered noise that escaped 
her to he crying. 

And the hoy, too,^^ said the Jew, straining his eyes 
to catch a glimpse of her face. Poor leetle child! 
Left in a ditch, Nance, only think! 

The child,^^ said the girl, suddenly looking up, 
is better where he is than among us, and if no harm 
comes to Bill from it, I hope he lies dead in the ditch 
and that his young hones may rot there.” 

What! ” cried the Jew in amazement. 

Ay, I do,” returned the girl, meeting his gaze. 
I shall be glad to have him away from my eyes, and 
to J^now that the 'worst is over. I canT bear to have 
him about me. The sight of him turns me against my- 
self and all of you.” 

^^Pooh!” said the Jew scornfully; ^^if Sikes comes 
hack and leaves the hoy behind him — if he gets off free, 
and, dead or alive, fails to restore him to me — murder 


168 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


him yourself if you would have him escape. And do 
it the moment he sets foot in this room, or, mind me, 
it will be too late! 

What is all this? cried the girl. 

What is it ? pursued Fagin, mad with rage. 

When the boy’s worth hundreds of pounds to me, am 
I to lose what chance threw me in the way of getting 
safely through the whim of a gang that I could whistle 
away the lives of ? ” 

Don’t worry me now, Fagin! ” replied the girl. 

If Bill has not done it this time, he will another. He 
has done many a good job for you, and will do many 
more when he can; and when he can’t he won’t, so no 
more about that.” 

Regarding this boy, my dear? ” said the Jew, rub- 
bing the palms of his hands nervously together. 

The boy must take his chance with the rest,” inter- 
rupted Haney hastily; and I say again I hope he is 
dead and out of harm’s way, and out of yours — that is, 
if Bill comes to no harm. And if Toby got clear off. 
Bill’s pretty sure to be safe, for Bill’s worth two of 
Toby anytime.” 

Having accomplished his twofold object of impart- 
ing to the girl what he had that night heard and of 
ascertaining with his own eyes that Sikes had not re- 
turned, Mr. Fagin again turned his face homeward, 
leaving his young friend asleep with her head upon the 
table. 

It was within an hour of midnight. The weather 
being dark and piercing cold, he had no great tempta- 
tion to loiter. The sharp wind that scoured the streets 
seemed to have cleared them of passengers, as few peo- 
ple were abroad, and they were to all appearances has- 
tening fast home. It blew from the right quarter for 
the Jew, however, and straight before it he went, trem- 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


169 


bling and shivering, as every fresh gust drove him 
rudely on his way. 

He had reached the corner of his own street, and 
was already fumbling in his pocket for the door key, 
when a dark figure glided up to him unperceived. 

Fagin! whispered a voice close to his ear. 

^VAh!^^ said the Jew, turning quickly around, is 
that 

Yes,^^ interrupted the stranger. I have been 
lingering here these two hours. Where have you 
been? 

On your business, my dear,^Heplied the Jew, glanc- 
ing uneasily at his companion and slackening his pace 
as he spoke — on your business, all night.^^ 

Oh, of course,^^ said the stranger with a sneer. 

Well, and whaFs come of it? 

Nothing good,^^ said the Jew. 

Nothing bad, I hope? said the stranger, stopping 
short and turning a startled look on his companion. 

The Jew shook his head and was about to reply 
when the stranger, interrupting him, motioned to the 
house, before which they had by this time arrived, re- 
marking that he had better say what he had to say under 
cover, for his blood was chilled with standing about so 
long and the wind blew through him. 

Fagin looked as if he could have willingly excused 
himself from taking home a visitor at that hour, and, 
indeed, muttered something about having no fire; but 
his companion repeating his request, he unlocked the 
door and requested him to close it softly while he got a 
light. 

IFs as dark as a grave,” said the man, groping for- 
ward a few steps. Make haste! ” 

Shut the door,” whispered Fagin from the end 
of the passage. As he spoke it closed with a loud noise. 


170 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


That wasn’t my doing/’ said the other man^, feel- 
ing his way. The wind blew it to or it shut of its own 
accord, one or the other. Look sharp with the light, or 
I shall knock my brains out against something in this 
confounded hole.” 

Fagin stealthily descended the kitchen stairs. After 
a short absence he returned with a lighted candle and 
the intelligence that Toby Crackit was asleep in the 
back room below, and that the boys were in the front 
one. Beckoning the man to follow him, he led the 
way upstairs. 

We can say the few words we’ve got to say in 
here, my dear,” said the Jew, throwing open a door on 
the first floor, and as there are holes in the shutters, 
and we never show lights to our neighbors, we’ll set 
the candle on the stairs. There! ” 

With these words the Jew, stooping down, placed 
the candle on an upper flight of stairs exactly opposite 
to the room door. This done, he led the way into the 
apartment, which was destitute of all movables save a 
broken armchair and an old couch or sofa, without 
covering, which stood behind the door. Upon this 
piece of furniture the stranger sat himself with the air 
of a weary man, and the Jew drawing up the armchair 
opposite, they sat face to face. It was not quite dark, 
the door was partially open, and the candle outside 
threw a feeble reflection on the opposite wall. 

They conversed for some time in whispers. They 
might have been talking thus for a quarter of an hour or 
more when Monks — by which name the Jew had called 
the vstrange man several times in the course of their talk 
— said, raising his voice a little: 

I tell you again it was badly planned. Why not 
have kept him here among the rest and made a sneak- 
ing pickpocket of him at once? ” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


171 


Only hear him! exclaimed the Jew, shrugging 
his shoulders. 

Why, do you mean to say you couldn’t have done 
it if you had chosen?” demanded Monks sternly. 

Haven’t you done it with other boys scores of times? 
If you had had patience for a twelvemonth at most, 
couldn’t you have got him convicted and sent safely 
out of the kingdom — perhaps for life ? ” 

Whose turn would that have served, my dear?” 
inquired the Jew humbly. 

Mine,” replied Monks. 

But not mine,” said the Jew. He might have 
become of use to me. When there are two parties in a 
bargain, it is only reasonable that the interests of both 
should be consulted; is it, my good friend?” 

What then? ” demanded Monks. 

I saw it was not easy to train him to the business,” 
replied the Jew; he was not like other boys in the 
same circumstances.” 

Curse him, no! ” muttered the man, or he would 
have been a thief long ago.” 

I had no hold upon him to make him worse; his 
hand was not in. I had nothing to frighten him with, 
which we always must have in the beginning or we 
labor in vain. What could I do? Send him out with 
the Dodger and Charley? We had enough of that at 
first, my dear. I tremble for us all.” 

That was not my doing,” observed Monks. 

Ho, no, my dear!” renewed the Jew. And I 
don’t quarrel with it now, because if it had never hap- 
pened you might never have clapped eyes upon the boy 
to notice him, and so led to the discovery that it was 
him you w'ere looking for. Well, I got him back for 
you by means of the girl, and then she begins to favor 
him.” 


172 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Throttle the girl! said Monks impatiently. 

Why^ we canT afford to do that just now^ my dear/^ 
replied the Jew, smiling, and besides that sort of thing 
is not in our way, or one of these days I might be glad 
to have it done. I know what these girls are. Monks, 
well. As soon as the boy begins to harden she’ll care 
no more for him than a block of wood. You want him 
made a thief. If he is alive, I can make him one from 
this time; and if — if — ” said the Jew, drawing nearer 
to the other, it’s not likely, mind — ^but if the worst 

comes to the worst and he is dead ” 

It’s no fault of mine if he is!” interposed the 
other man with a look of terror and clasping the Jew’s 
arm with trembling hands. Mind that, Fagin ! I had 
no hand in it. Anything but his death, I told you from 
the first. I won’t shed blood; it’s always found out, 
and haunts a man besides. If they shot him dead, I 
was not the cause, do you hear me? What’s that? ” 

What? ” cried the Jew, grasping the coward round 
the body with both arms as he sprang to his feet. 

Where? ” 

Yonder! ” replied the man, glaring at the opposite 
wall. The shadow! I saw the shadow of a woman in 
a cloak and bonnet pass like a breath! ” 

The Jew released his hold, and they rushed from 
the room. The candle; wasted by the draught, was 
standing where it had been placed. It showed them 
only the empty staircase and their own white faces. 
They listened intently; a profound silence reigned 
throughout the house. , 

It’s your fancy,” said the Jew, taking up the light 
and turning to his companion. 

^^I’ll swear I saw it!” replied Monks, trembling. 

It was bending forward when I saw it first, and when 
I spoke it darted away.” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


173 


They descended into the passage, and thence into 
the cellar below. The green damp Imng upon the low 
walls, the tracks of the snail and sing glistened in the 
light of the candle, but all was still as death. 

What do you think now?^^ said the Jew when 
they had regained the passage. Besides ourselves, 
there’s not a creature in the house except Toby and the 
boys, and they’re safe enough. See here! ” 

As a proof of the fact, the Jew drew forth two keys 
from his pocket and explained that when he first went 
downstairs he had locked them in to prevent any intru- 
sion on the conference. 

This accumulated testimony effectually staggered 
Mr. Monks. He declined any renewal of the conversa- 
tion, however, for that night, suddenly remembering 
that it was past one o’clock. And so the amiable couple 
parted. 


CHAPTEE XXVII. 


We will now return to the beadle;, whom we have 
kept waiting, with his back to the fire and the skirts of 
his coat gathered up under his arms. He had recounted 
the teaspoons, reweighed the sugar tongs, made a close 
inspection of the milk pot, and discerned the exact con- 
dition of the furniture down to the very horse-hair seats 
of the chairs, and had repeated each process full half 
a dozen times before he began to think that it was time 
for Mrs. Corney to return. As there were no sounds 
of Mrs. Corney’s approach, it occurred to Mr. Bumble 
that it would be an innocent and virtuous way of spend- 
ing the time if he were further to satisfy his curiosity 
by a glance at the inside of Mrs. Corney’s chest of 
drawers. 

Having listened at the keyhole to assure himself that 
nobody was approaching the room, Mr. Bumble, begin- 
ning at the bottom, proceeded to make himself ac- 
quainted with the contents of the three long drawers, 
which, being filled with various garments of good fash- 
ion and material, carefully preserved between two layers 
of newspapers, speckled with dried lavender, seemed 
to give him great satisfaction. Arriving in course of 
time at the right-hand corner drawer (in which was the 
key), and beholding therein a small padlocked box, 
which being shaken gave forth a pleasant sound as of 
the chinking of coin, Mr. Bumble returned with a state- 
174 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


175 


ly walk to the fireplace, and resuming his old attitude, 
said with a grave and determined air, ITl do it! 
Just then Mrs. Corney came hurrying into the room, 
threw herself in a breathless state on a chair by the 
fireside, and covering her eyes with one hand, placed 
the other over her heart and gasped for breath. 

Mrs. Corney,^^ said Mr. Bumble, stooping over the 
matron, what is this, ma'am? Has anything hap- 
pened, ma'am? Pray answer me, I'm on — on " Mr. 

Bumble in his alarm could not at once think of the 
word tenter-hooks," so he said broken bottles." 

0 Mr. Bumble! " cried the lady, I have been so 
dreadfully put out! " 

Put out, ma'am! " exclaimed Mr. Bumble. Then 
take something, ma'am," he added; a little, of the 
wine ? " 

Hot for the world," replied Mrs. Corney. I 
couldn't — oh! The top shelf in the corner — oh! " Ut- 
tering these words, the good lady pointed distractedly 
to the cupboard, and underwent a convulsion. Mr. 
Bumble rushed to the closet, and, snatching a pint 
green-glass bottle from the shelf, filled a teacup with 
its contents and held it to the lady's lips. 

I'm better now," said Mrs. Corney, falling back 
after drinking half of it. 

Mr. Bumble raised his eyes piously to the ceiling 
in thankfulness, and, bringing them down again to the 
brim of the cup, lifted it to his nose. 

Peppermint," exclaimed Mrs. Corney in a faint 
voice, smiling gently on the beadle as she spoke. 

Try it! There's a little — a little something else in 
it." 

Mr. Bumble tasted the medicine with a doubtful 
looked, smacked his lips, took another taste, and put the 
cup down empty. 

13 


176 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


It’s very comforting/’ said Mrs. Corney. 

^^Very much so^ indeed, ma’am,” said the beadle. 
As he spoke he drew a chair beside the matron and 
tenderly inquired what had happened to distress 
her. 

Nothing,” replied Mrs. Corney. I am a foolish, 
excitable, weak creature.” 

Not weak, ma’am,” retorted Mr. Bumble, drawing 
his chair a little closer. Are you a weak creetur, Mrs. 
Corney?” 

AYe are all weak creeturs,” said Mrs. Corney, lay- 
ing down a general principle. 

So we are,” said the beadle. 

Mrs. Corney sighed. 

Don’t sigh, Mrs. Corney,” said Mr. Bumble. 

I can’t help it,” said Mrs. Corney, and she sighed 
again. 

Mrs. Corney dropped her head, the beadle dropped 
his to get a view of Mrs. Corney’s face. Mrs. Corney, 
with great propriety, turned her head away and released 
her hand to get at her pocket handkerchief, but soon 
put it back in that of Mr. Bumble. 

The board allow you coals, don’t they, Mrs. 
Corney ? ” inquired the beadle, affectionately pressing 
her hand. 

And candles,” replied Mrs. Corney, slightly return- 
ing the pressure. 

Coals, candles, and house rent free,” said Mr. 
Bumble. 0 Mrs. Corney! what a angel you are! ” 

The lady was not proof against this burst of feel- 
ing. She sunk into Mr. Bumble’s arms. Such per- 
fection!” exclaimed Mr. Bumble rapturously. You 
know that Mr. Slout is worst to-night, my fasci- 
nator? ” 

Y^es,” replied Mrs. Corney bashfully. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


177 


“ He can not live a week^ the doctor says/^ pursued 
Mr. Bumble. He is the master of this establishment; 
his death will cause a vacancy; that vacancy must he 
filled up. 0 Mrs. Corney! what a prospect this opens! 
What an opportunity for a joining of hearts and house- 
keepings! 

Mrs. Corney sobbed. 

The little word? said Mr. Bumble, bending over 
the bashful beauty. The one little, little, little word, 
my blessed Corney? 

Ye-ye-yes! sighed out the matron. 

One more,’^ pursued the beadle; compose your 
feelings, darling, for only one more. When is it to 
come off? 

Mrs. Corney tried to speak and twice failed. At 
length, summoning up courage, she said, It might be 
as soon as ever Mr. Bumble pleased,^^ and that he was 
a irresistible duck.^^ 

Matters being thus satisfactorily arranged, they 
drank a teacup of the mixture, which was rendered the 
more necessary by the flutter and agitation of the lady’s 
spirits. While it was being disposed of, she told Mr. 
Bumble of the old woman’s death. 

Very good,” said the gentleman, sipping his pep- 
permint. ^^I’ll call at Sowerberry’s as I go home and 
tell him to send to-morrow morning. Was it that as 
frightened you, love? ” 

It wasn’t anything particular, dear,” said the lady 
hesitatingly. 

^^It must have been something, love,” urged Mr. 
Bumble. W^on’t you tell your own B.? ” 

Hot now,” rejoined the lady; one of these days. 
After we’re married, dear.” 

Mr. Bumble then turned up his coat collar and put 
on his cocked hat, and, having exchanged a long and 


178 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


affectionate embrace with his future partner^ once again 
braved the cold wind of the night. 

He left the building with a light heart and bright 
visions of his future promotion, which served to occu- 
py his mind until he reached the shop of the under- 
taker. 

How Mr. and Mrs. Sowerberry, having gone out to 
tea and supper, and Hoah Claypole not being at any 
time disposed to take upon himself a greater amount of 
physical exertion than eating and drinking, the shop 
was not closed, although it was past the usual hour of 
shutting up. Mr. Bumble tapped with his cane on the 
counter several times, but, attracting no attention and 
beholding a light shining through the glass window of 
the little parlor at the back of the shop, he made bold 
to peep in and see what was going forward, and, when 
he saw what was going forward, he was not a httle sur- 
prised. 

The cloth was laid for supper, the table was covered 
with bread and butter, plates and glasses, a porter pot, 
and a wine bottle. At the upper end of the table Mr. 
Hoah Claypole lolled lazily in an easy-chair, with his 
legs thrown over one of the arms, an open clasp knife 
in one hand and a mass of buttered bread in the other. 
Close beside him stood Charlotte, opening oysters from 
a barrel, which Mr. Claypole condescended to swallow 
with remarkable eagerness. 

Charlotte! cried Mr. Bumble sternly. Take 
yourself downstairs, ma^am. Hoah, you shut up the 
shop; say another word till your master comes home at 
your peril, and when he does come home tell him that 
Mr. Bumble said he was to send an old woman’s coffin 
after breakfast to-morrow morning.” With these words, 
the beadle strode, with a lofty and gloomy air, from the 
undertaker’s premises. 


THE STOEY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


179 


And now we have accompanied him so far on his 
road home, and have made all necessary preparation for 
the old woman’s funeral, let us set on foot a few in- 
quiries after young Oliver Twist, and find out whether 
he he still lying in the ditch where Toby Crackit left 
him. 


CHAPTEE ‘XXYIII. 


Wolves tear your throats! muttered Sikes, 
grinding his teeth. I wish I was among some of you; 
you’d howl the hoarser for it.’’ 

As Sikes growled forth this threat he rested the 
body of the wounded hoy across his bended knee and 
turned his head for an instant to look back at his pur- 
suers. 

There was little to he made out in the mist and dark- 
ness, but the loud shouting of men vibrated through 
the air, and the barking of the neighboring dogs, roused 
by the sound of the alarm bell, resounded in every direc- 
tion. 

Stop, you white-livered hound! ” cried the robber, 
shouting after Toby Crackit, who, making the best use 
of his long legs, was already ahead. Stop! ” 

The repetition of the word brought Toby to a dead 
standstill. For he was not quite satisfied that he was 
beyond the range of pistol shot, and Sikes was in no 
mood to he played with. 

Bear a hand with the hoy,” cried Sikes. Come 
back! ” 

Toby made a show of returning. 

Quicker! ” cried Sikes, laying the hoy in a dry 
ditch at his feet and drawing the pistol from his pocket. 

Don’t play booty with me! ” 

At this moment the noise grew louder. Sikes, again 
180 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


181 


looking round, could discern that the men who were 
giving chase were already climbing the gate of the field 
in which he stood, and that a couple of dogs were some 
paces in advance of them. 

If s all up. Bill! cried Toby; drop the kid and 
show ^em your heels. 

• Sikes clinched his teeth, took one look round, threw 
over the prostrate form of Oliver the cape in which he 
had been hurriedly muffled, ran along the front of the 
hedge, as if to distract the attention of those behind 
from the spot where the hoy lay, paused for a second 
before another hedge which met it at right angles, and, 
whirling his pistol high into the air, cleared it at a 
bound and was gone. 

Ho, ho, there! cried a tremulous voice in the 
rear. Fincher! Neptune! Come here, come here! 

The dogs, who, in common with their masters, 
seemed to have no particularrelish for the sport in which 
they were engaged, readily answered to the command. 
Three men, who had by this time advanced some dis- 
tance into the field, stopped to take counsel together. 

My advice, or leastways, I should say, my orders, 
is,^^ said the fattest man of the party, that we ^medi- 
ately go home again.^^ 

I am agreeable to anything which is agreeable to 
Mr. Griles,^’ said the shorter man, who was by no means 
of a slim figure, and who was very pale in the face and 
very polite, as frightened men frequently are. 

I shouldn’t wish to appear ill-mannered, gentle- 
men,” said the third, who had called the dogs hack; 

Mr. Giles ought to know.” 

Certainly,” replied the shorter man; and what- 
ever Mr. Giles says it isn’t our place to contradict him. 
No, no, I know my sitiwation! Thank my stars, I know 
my sitiwation! ” 


182 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


You are afraid^ Brittles,” said Mr. Giles. 

I ain^t! said Brittles. 

You are/^ said Giles. 

The third man brought the dispute to a close. 

ITl tell you what it is^ gentlemen/^ said he; ^^weYe 
all afraid.'’^ 

Speak for yourself, sir/^ said Mr. Giles, who was 
the palest of the party. 

So I do,^^ replied the man. ItY natural and 
proper to he afraid under such circumstances. I am.^^ 

So am said Brittles. Only thereY no call to 
tell a man he is so bounceahly.’^ 

These frank admissions softened Mr. Giles, who at 
once owned that he was afraid; upon which they all 
three faced about, and ran hack again until Mr. Giles 
most handsomely insisted on stopping to make an apol- 
ogy for his hastiness of speech. 

But it’s wonderful,” said Mr. Giles when he had 
explained, what a man will do when his blood is up. 
I should have committed murder — I know I should — 
if we’d caught one of them rascals.” 

As the other two were impressed with a similar pre- 
sentiment, and as their blood, like his, had all gone 
down again, some speculation ensued upon the cause of 
this sudden change in their temperament. 

I know what it was,” said Mr. Giles; it was the 
gate.” 

I shouldn’t wonder if it was,”« exclaimed Brittles, 
catching at the idea. 

Y^ou may depend upon it,” said Giles, that the 
gate stopped the flow of the excitement. I felt all mine 
suddenly going away as I was climbing over it.” 

By a remarkable coincidence the other two had been 
visited with the same unpleasant sensation at that pre- 
cise moment. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


183 


Mr. Giles acted in the double capacity of butler and 
steward to the old lady of the mansion; Brittles was a 
lad of all work^ who^ having entered her service a mere 
child, was treated as a promising young boy still, though 
he was something past thirty. 

Encouraging each other with such converse as this, 
hut keeping very close together, notwithstanding, and 
looking around whenever a fresh gust rattled through 
the boughs, the three men hurried back to a tree, be- 
hind which they had left their lantern lest its light 
should inform the thieves in what direction to fire. 
Catching up the light, they made the best of their way 
home at a good round trot, and long after their dusky 
forms had ceased to be seen the light might have been 
seen twinkling and dancing in the distance like some 
exhalation of the damp and gloomy atmosphere through 
which it was swiftly borne. 

The air grew colder as the day came slowly on, and 
the mist rolled along the ground like a dense cloud of 
smoke. The grass was wet, the pathways and low places 
were all mire and water; the damp breath of the un- 
wholesome wind went languidly by with a hollow moan- 
ing. Still Oliver lay motionless and insensible on the 
spot where Sikes had left him. 

Morning drew on apace. The air became more sharp 
and piercing as its first dull hue — the death of night 
rather than the birth of day — glimmered faintly in the 
sky. The objects which had looked dim and terrible 
in the darkness grew more and more defined, and grad- 
ually resolved into their familiar shapes. The rain came 
down thick and fast, and pattered noisily among the 
leafless bushes. But Oliver felt it not as it heat against 
him, for he still lay stretched helpless and unconscious 
on his bed of clay. 

At length a low cry of pain broke the stillness that 


18 ^ 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


prevailed, and, uttering it, the boy awoke. His left 
arm, rudely bandaged in a shawl, hung heavily and use- 
less at his side; the bandage was saturated with blood. 
He was so weak that he could scarcely raise himself into 
a sitting posture; when he had done so he looked feebly 
round for help, and groaned with pain. Trembling in 
every joint from cold and exhaustion, he made an effort 
to stand upright, but, shuddering from head to foot, 
fell prostrate on the ground. 

After a short return of the stupor in which he had 
been so long plunged, Oliver, urged by a creeping sick- 
ness at his heart, which seemed to warn him that if he 
lay there he must surely die, got upon his feet and es- 
sayed to walk. His head was dizzy, and he staggered to 
and fro like a drunken man. But he kept up, never- 
theless, and with his head drooping languidly on his 
breast went stumbling onward, he knew not whither. 

Thus he staggered on, creeping between the bars of 
gates or through hedge gaps as they came in his way 
until he reached the road. Here the rain began to fall 
so heavily that it roused him. 

He looked about and saw at no great distance there 
was a house which perhaps he could reach. Pitying his 
condition, they might have compassion on him, and if 
they did not, it would be better, he thought, to die near 
human beings than in the lonely open fields. He sum- 
moned up all his strength for one last trial, and bent his 
faltering steps toward it. 

As he drew nearer to the house a feeling came over 
him that he had seen it before. He remembered noth- 
ing of its details, but the shape and aspect of the build- 
ing seemed familiar to him. 

That garden wall ! On the grass inside he had fallen 
on his knees last night and prayed the two men’s mercy. 
It was the very house they had attempted to rob. 


THE STORY OP OLIVER TWIST. 


185 


Oliver felt such fear come over him when he recog- 
nized the place that for the instant he forgot the agony 
of his wound and thought only of flight. Flight! He 
could scarcely stands and, if he were in full possession 
of all the best powers of his slight and youthful frame, 
whither could he fly? He pushed against the garden 
gate; it was unlocked, and swung open on its hinges. 
He tottered across the lawn, climbed the steps, knocked 
faintly at the door, and, his whole strength failing 
him, sunk down against one of the pillars of the little 
portico. 

It happened that about this time Messrs. Giles and 
Brittles were recruiting themselves after the fatigues 
and terrors of the night with tea and sundries in the 
kitchen. Not that it was Mr. Gileses habit to admit to 
too great familiarity the humbler servants, hut death, 
flres, and burglary make all men equals; so Mr. Giles sat 
with his legs stretched out before the kitchen fender, 
leaning his left arm on the table, while with his right he 
gave a minute account of the robbery, to which his hear- 
ers (but especially the cook and housemaid, who were 
of the party) listened with breathless interest. 

It was about half-past two,^^ said Mr. Giles, or 
perhaps a little nearer three, when I woke up, and, turn- 
ing in my bed, as it might be so (here Mr. Giles turned 
round in his chair and pulled the corner of the table- 
cloth over him to imitate the bedclothes), fancied 
I heerd a noise.^^ 

At this point of the narrative the cook turned pale, 
and asked the housemaid to shut the door, who asked 
Brittles, who pretended not to hear. 

Heerd a noise,^’ continued Mr. Giles. I says at 
first this is illusion, and was composing myself off to 
sleep when I heerd the noise again — distinct.’’ 

^^What sort of a noise?” asked the cook. 


186 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


A kind of bustling noise/^ replied Mr. Giles, look- 
ing round him. 

More like the noise of powdering a iron bar on a 
nutmeg grater/^ suggested Brittles. 

It was, when you heerd it, sir,^^ rejoined Mr. Giles, 
but at this time it had a bustling sound. I turned 
down the clothes,^^ continued Giles, rolling back the 
tablecloth, sat up in bed, and listened.^^ 

The cook and housemaid cried ^^Lor’!^^ and drew 
their chairs closer together. 

I heerd it now quite apparent, resumed Mr. Giles. 
Somebody, says I, is forcing of a door or window; 
whaBs to be done? ITl call up that poor lad Brittles 
and save him from being murdered in his bed, or his 
throat, says I, may be cut from his right ear to his left 
without his ever knowing it.^^ 

Here all eyes were turned upon Brittles, who fixed 
his upon the speaker and stared at him with his mouth 
wide open and his face expressive of the most unmiti- 
gated horror. 

I tossed off the clothes,’^ said Giles, got softly out 
of bed, drew on a pair — of shoes, sir,^^ *said Giles, seized 
the loaded pistol that always goes upstairs with the plate 
basket, and walked on tiptoes to his room. ^ Brittles,^ I 
says, when I had woke him, ^ donT be frightened! ’ 

So you did,^^ observed Brittles in a low voice. 

^ WeTe dead men, I think, Brittles,^ I says,” con- 
tinued Giles, ^ but donff be frightened.’ ” 
he frightened?” asked the cook. 

^^Hot a bit of it,” replied Mr. Giles. ^^He was as 
firm — ah! pretty near as firm as I was.” 

I should have died at once. I’m sure, if it had been 
me,” observed the housemaid. 

You’re a woman,” retorted Brittles, plucking up a 

little. 


THE STORY OP OLIVER TWIST. 


187 


Brittles is right/^ said Mr. Giles, nodding his 
head approvingly; from a woman nothing else was to 
be expected. We, being men, took a dark lantern that 
was standing on Brittle’s hob and groped onr way down- 
stairs in the pitch dark — as might be, so.” 

Mr. Giles had risen from his seat and taken two steps 
with his eyes shut to accompany his description with 
appropriate action, when he started violently, in com- 
mon with the rest of the company, and hurried back to 
his chair. The cook and housemaid screamed. 

It was a knock,” said Mr. Giles, assuming perfect 
serenity. Open the door, somebody.” 

Nobody moved. 

seems a strange sort of thing a knock coming 
at such a time in the morning,” said Mr. Giles, survey- 
ing the pale faces which surrounded him and looking 
very blank himself; but the door must be opened. 
Do you hear, somebody ? ” 

Mr. Giles as he spoke looked at Brittles, but that 
young man, being naturally modest, probably considered 
himself nobody, and so held that the inquiry could not 
have any application to him; at all events, he tendered 
no reply. The women were out of the question. 

If Brittles would rather open the door in the pres- 
ence of witnesses,” said Mr. Giles after a short silence. 
I’m ready to make one.” 

Brittles, opening the door, beheld no more formi- 
dable object than poor little Oliver Twist, speechless and 
exhausted, who raised his heavy eyes and mutely asked 
their compassion. 

boy!” exclaimed Mr. Giles. What’s the mat- 
ter with the — eh! Why, Brittles — look here — don’t you 
know?” 

Brittles, who had got behind the door to open it, 
no sooner saw Oliver than he uttered a loud cry. Mr. 


188 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Giles, seizing the boy by one leg and one arm (for- 
tunately not the broken limb), lugged him straight into 
the hall, and deposited him at full length on the floor 
thereof. 

^^Here he is! bawled Giles, calling in a state of 
great excitement up the staircase; here’s one of the 
thieves, ma’am! Here’s a thief, miss! Wounded, miss! 
I shot him, miss, and Brittles held the light.” 

In a lantern, miss! ” cried Brittles, applying one 
hand to the side of his mouth so that his voice might 
travel the better. 

The two women servants ran upstairs to carry the 
intelligence that Mr. Giles had captured a robber, while 
he busied himself in endeavoring to restore Oliver lest 
he should die before he could he hanged. In the midst 
of all this noise and commotion there was heard a sweet 
female voice, which quelled it in an instant. 

Giles,” whispered the voice from the stairhead. 

I’m here, miss,” replied Mr. Giles. Don’t be 
frightened, miss; I ain’t much injured. He didn’t make 
a very desperate resistance, miss! I was soon too many 
for him.” 

^^Hush!” replied the young lady; ^^you frightened 
my aunt as much as the thieves did. Is the poor crea- 
ture much hurt?” 

Wounded desperate, miss,” replied Giles. 

He looks as if he was agoing, miss,” bawled Brit- 
tles in the same manner as before. Wouldn’t you like 
to come and look at him, miss, in case he should? ” 

Hush, . pray, there’s a good man!” rejoined the 
lady. W^ait quietly only one instant while I speak to 
aunt.” 

With a footstep as soft and gentle as the voice, the 
speaker tripped away. She soon returned with the di- 
rections that the wounded person was to be carried care- 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


189 


fully upstairs to Mr. Giles’s room^ and that Brittles was 
to saddle the pony and betake himself instantly to 
Chertsey, from which "place he was to dispatch with all 
speed a constable and doctor. 

But won’t you take one look at him firsts miss? ” 
asked Mr. Giles with as much pride as if Oliver had 
been some bird of rare plumage that he had skillfully 
brought down. N'ot one little peep^ miss?” 

Not now^ for the world/’ replied the young lady. 

Poor fellow! Oh, treat him kindly, Giles, for my- 
sake! ” 

The old servant looked up at the speaker as she 
turned away with a glance as proud and admiring as if 
she had been his own child. Then, bending over Oliver, 
he helped to carry him upstairs with the care of a 
woman. 




CHAPTEE XXIX. 


In a handsome room^ though its furniture had 
rather the air of old-fashioned comfort than of modern 
elegance, there sat two ladies at a well-spread breakfast 
table. Mr. Giles, dressed with care in a full suit of 
black, was in attendance upon them. 

Of the two ladies, one was well advanced in years, 
hut the high-backed oaken chair in which she sat was 
not more upright than she. Dressed with the utmost 
nicety and care, she sat in a stately manner with her 
hands folded on the table before her. Her eyes (and 
age had dimmed hut little of their brightness) were at- 
tentively fixed upon her young companion. 

The younger lady was in the lovely bloom and 
springtime of womanhood; at that age when, if ever 
angels be for God’s good purposes enthroned in mortal 
forms, they may he without impiety supposed to dwell 
in such as her’s. 

She was not past seventeen. Cast in so slight and 
exquisite a mold, so mild nnd gentle, so pure and so 
^ beautiful that earth seemed not her element nor its 
rough creatures her fit companions. The very intelli- 
gence which shone in her deep blue eye and was stamped 
upon her noble head seemed scarcely of her age or of 
the world, and yet the changing expressions of sweetness 
and good humor, the thousand lights that played about 
her face and left no shadow there — above all, the smile, 
190 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


191 


the cheerful, happy smile, were made for home and fire- 
side, peace and happiness. 

She was busily engaged in the little offices of the 
table. Chancing to raise her eyes as the elder lady was 
regarding her, she playfully put back her hair, which 
was simply braided on her forehead, and threw into her 
beaming look such an expression of affection and art- 
less loveliness that blessed spirits might have smiled to 
look upon her. 

And Brittles has been gone upward of an hour, 
has he? asked the old lady after a pause. 

An hour and twelve minutes, ma^am,^^ replied Mr. 
Giles, referring to a silver watch which he drew forth 
by a black ribbon. 

He is always slow,” remarked the old lady. 

Brittles always was a slow boy, ma’am! ” replied 
the attendant. And seeing, by the bye, that Brittles 
had been a slow boy for upward of thirty years, there 
appeared no great chance of his ever being a fast one. 

He gets worse instead of better, I think,” said the 
elder lady. 

It is very inexcusable in him if he stops to play 
with any other boys,” said the young lady, smiling. 

Mr. Giles was apparently considering the propriety 
of indulging in a respectful smile himself when a gig 
drove up to the garden gate, out of which there jumped 
a fat gentleman, who ran straight up to the door, and 
who, getting quickly into the house by some mysterious 
process, burst into the room and nearly overturned Mr^ 
Giles and the breakfast table together. 

I never heard of such a thing! ” exclaimed the fat 
gentleman. My dear Mrs. May lie! — bless my soul! — 
in the silence of night, too — I never heard of such a 
thing! ” 

With these expressions of sympathy the fat gentle- 
14 


192 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


man shook hands with both ladies, and drawing up a 
chair inquired how they found themselves. 

^^You ought to he dead, positively dead with the 
fright,^^ said the fat gentleman. Why didn^t you send? 
Bless me! my man should have come in a minute, and 
so would I, and my assistant would have been delighted, 
or anybody, I^m sure, under such circumstances. Dear, 
dear! so unexpected! In the silence of night, too! 

The doctor seemed especially troubled by the fact 
of the robbery having been unexpected and attempted 
in the nighttime, as if it were the usual custom of gen- 
tlemen in the housebreaking way to transact business 
at noon and to make an appointment by the two-penny 
post a day or two before. 

And you. Miss Eose,^^ said the doctor, turning to 
the young lady, I 

Oh, very much so, indeed,’^ said Miss Rose, inter- 
rupting him; but there is a poor creature upstairs 
whom aunt wishes you to see.^^ 

^^Ah! to be sure,^^ replied the doctor, so there is. 
That was your handiwork, Giles, I understand.^^ . 

Mr. Giles, who had been feverishly putting the tea- 
cups to rights, blushed very red, and said that he had 
had that honor. 

Honor, eh?^^ said the doctor. ^^Well, I don’t 
•know; perhaps it’s as honorable to hit a thief in a hack 
kitchen as to hit your man at twelve paces. Fancy that 
he tired in the air and you’ve fought a duel, Giles.” 

• Mr. Giles, who thought this light treatment of the 
mMter an unjust attempt at lessening his glory, an- 
swered respectfully that it was not for the like of him 
to judge about that, hut he rather thought it was no 
joke to the opposite party. 

Gad, that’s true!” said the doctor. Where is 
he? Show me the way. I’ll look in again as I come 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


193 


down^ Mrs. Maylie. That^s the little window he got 
in at, eh? Well, I couldn’t have believed it! ” 

The doctor was absent much longer than either he 
or the ladies had expected. A large flat box was brought 
out of the gig, and a bedroom bell was rung very often, 
and the servants ran up and downstairs perpetually, 
from which sign it was supposed that something impor- 
tant was going on aborve. At length he returned, and, 
in reply to an anxious inquiry after his patient, looked 
very mysterious and closed the door carefully. 

This is a very extraordinary thing, Mrs. Maylie,” 
said the doctor, standing with his back to the door as 
if to keep it shut. 

He is not in danger, I hope?” said the old lady. 

Why, that would not be an extraordinary thing 
under the circumstances,” replied the doctor, although 
I don’t think he is. Have you seen this thief? ” 

Ho,” rejoined the old lady. 

^^Hor heard anything about him?” 

Ho.” 

I beg your pardon, ma’am,” interposed Mr. Giles, 
but I was going to tell you about him when Dr. Los- 
berne came in. 

The fact was that Mr. Giles had not at first been 
able to bring his mind to the confession that he had only 
shot a boy. Such praise had been bestowed upon his 
bravery that he could not for the life of him help post- 
poning the explanation for a few delicious minutes, 
during which he had flourished in the reputation for 
undaunted courage. 

Rose wished to see the man,” said Mrs. Maylie, 
^^but I wouldn’t hear of it.” 

Humph! ” rejoined the doctor. There is noth- 
ing very alarming in his appearance. Have you any 
objection to see him in my presence?” 


194 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


If it be necessary/^ replied the old lady^ cer- 
tainly not.^^ 

Then I think it is necessary/^ replied the doctor; 
at all events^ I am quite sure that you would deeply 
regret not having done so if you postponed it. He is 
perfectly quiet and comfortable now. Allow me — Miss 
Rose, will you permit me? Hot the slightest fear, I 
pledge you my honor! 


CHAPTEK XXX. 


With many assurances that they would he surprised 
in the aspect of the criminal, the doctor drew the young 
lady’s arm through one of his, and, offering his disen- 
gaged hand to Mrs. Muylie,, led them with much cere- 
mony and stateliness upstairs. 

Stepping before them, he looked into the room. 
Motioning them to advance, he closed the door when 
they entered and gently drew hack the curtains of the 
bed. Upon it, in place of the ruffian they had expected 
to behold, there lay a mere child, worn with pain and 
sunk into a deep sleep. His wounded arm, bound and 
splintered up, was crossed upon his breast; his head 
reclined upon the other arm, which was half hidden by 
his long hair as it streamed over the pillow. 

The honest gentleman held the curtain in his hand 
and looked on for a minute or so in silence. While 
he was watching the patient thus the younger lady 
glided softly past, and, seating herself in a chair by 
his bedside, gathered Oliyer’s hair from his face. 
As she stooped over him her tears fell upon his 
forehead. 

The boy stirred and smiled in his sleep, as though 
these marks of pity and compassion had awakened some 
pleasant dream of love and affection he had never 
known. 

^^What can this mean?” exclaimed the elder lady. 

195 


196 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


This poor child can never have been the pupil of rob- 
bers! 

Vice/^ sighed the surgeon^ replacing the curtain, 
takes up her abode in many temples.^^ 

But at so early an age! ” urged Rose. 

My dear young lady/^ rejoined the surgeon, mourn- 
fully shaking his head, crime, like death, is not con- 
fined to the old and withered alone.^^ 

But can you — can you really believe that this deli- 
cate boy has been the willing associate of the worst out- 
casts of society? said Rose. 

The surgeon shook his head in a manner which inti- 
mated that he feared it was very possible, and led the 
way into an adjoining apartment. 

But, even if he has been wicked, said Rose, 
^Think how young he is, think that he may never have 
known a mother’s love or the comfort of a home, that 
ill usage and blows or the want of bread may have 
driven him to herd with men who have forced him to 
guilt. Aunt, dear aunt, for mercy’s sake, think of this 
before you let them drag this sick child to a prison. 

My dear love,” said the old lady, as she folded the 
weeping girl to her bosom, do you think I would harm 
a hair of his head ? ” 

Oh, no! ” replied Rose eagerly. 

1^0, surely,” said the old lady; my days are draw- 
ing to their close, and may mercy be shown to me as I 
show it to others! AVhat can I do to save him, sir? ” 

Let me think, ma’am,” said the doctor, let me 
think.” Mr. Losberne thrust his hands into his pockets 
and took several turns up and down the room. 

He will wake in an hour or so, I dare say, and, 
although I have told that thick-headed constable fellow 
downstairs that he mustn’t be moved or spoken to on 
peril of his life, I think we may converse with him with- 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


197 


out danger. ISTow^ I make this stipulation — that I shall 
examine him in your presence^ and that if from what 
he says we judge^, and I can show to the satisfaction of 
your cool reason, that he is a real and thorough bad one 
(which is more than possible), he shall be left to his 
fate without any further interference on my part, at 
all events.^^ 

Oh, no, aunt! entreated Rose. 

Oh, yes, aunt! said the doctor. Is it a bar- 
gain ? 

He can not be hardened to vice,^^ said Rose. It 
is impossible.^^ 

Finally the treaty was entered into, and the parties 
thereunto sat down to wait with some impatience until 
Oliver should awake. 

It was evening, indeed, before the kind-hearted doc- 
tor brought them the intelligence that he was at length 
sufficiently restored to be spoken to. The boy was very 
ill, he said, and weak from the loss of blood, but his 
mind was so troubled with anxiety to disclose some- 
thing that he deemed it better to give him the oppor- 
tunity than to insist upon his remaining quiet until 
the next morning, which he should otherwise have 
done. 

The conference was a long one. Oliver told them 
all his simple history, and was often compelled to stop 
by pain and want of strength. It was a solemn thing to 
hear, in the darkened room, the feeble voice of the sick 
child recounting a weary list of evils which hard men 
had brought upon him. 

Oliver’s pillow was smoothed by gentle hands that 
night, and he could have died without a murmur. 

The doctor, after wiping his eyes and condemning 
them for being weak all at once, betook himself down- 
stairs to open upon Mr. Oiles. 


198 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Mr. Giles, Brittles, the two house women, and the 
doctor were in close conversation in regard to the rob- 
bery when a ring was heard at the gate and at the same 
moment the sound of wheels. 

IBs the runners! cried Brittles, to all appearance 
much relieved. 

The what?^^ exclaimed the doctor, aghast, in his 

turn. 

The Bow Street officers, sir,’^ replied Brittles, tak- 
ing up a candle; me and Mr. Giles sent for ^em this 
morning.^^ 

^^What?^^ cried the doctor. 

Yes,^^ replied Brittles, I sent a message up by the 
coachman, and I only wonder they werenT here before, 
sir.^^ 

^^You did, did you? Then confound your slow 
coaches down here, that^s all,^^ said the doctor, walking 
away. 


CHAPTEE XXXI. 


Who^s that?^^ inquired Brittles^ opening the door 
a little way, with the chain np, and peeping ont, shad- 
ing the candle with his hand. 

Open the door/^ replied a man outside; iPs the 
officers from Bow Street, as was sent to to-day.^^ 

Much comforted by this assurance, Brittles opened 
the door to its full width and lighted them in in a state 
of great admiration. 

The man who had knocked at the door was a stout 
personage of middle height, aged about fifty, with shiny 
black hair cropped pretty close, half whiskers, a round 
face, and sharp eyes. The other was a red-headed, bony 
man in top-boots, with a rather ill-favored countenance, 
and a turned-up, evil-looking nose. 

Tell your governor that Blathers and Duff is here, 
will you ? said the stouter man, smoothing down his 
hair and laying a pair of handcuffs on the table. Oh, 
good evening, master! Can I have a word or two with 
you in private, if you please? 

This was addressed to Mr. Losberne, who now made 
his appearance; that gentleman, motioning Brittles to 
retire, brought in the two ladies and shut the door. 

This is the lady of the house,^^ said Mr. Losberne, 
motioning toward Mrs. Maylie. 

Mr. Blathers made a bow. Being desired to sit 
down, he put his hat on the floor and, taking a chair, 
199 


200 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


motioned Duff to do the same. The latter gentleman^ 
who did not appear quite so much accustomed to good 
society or quite so much at his ease in it — one of the 
two — seated himself, and forced the head of his stick 
into his mouth, with some embarrassment. 

ISTow, in regard to this here robbery, master,’^ said 
Blathers. What are the circumstances ? 

Mr. Losherne, who appeared desirous of gaining 
time, related them at great length. Messrs. Blathers 
and Duff looked very knowing meanwhile, and occasion- 
ally exchanged a nod. 

I canT say for certain till I see the work, of 
course,^^ said Blathers, but my opinion at once is — I 
donT mind committing myself to that extent — that this 
wasn’t done by a yokel, eh. Duff? ” 

And translating the word yokel for the benefit of 
the ladies, I understand your meaning to be that this 
attempt was not made by a countryman ? ” said Mr. 
Losherne with a smile. 

That’s it, master,” replied Blathers. This is all 
about the robbery, is it ? ” 

All,” replied the doctor. 

^ow what is this about this here boy that the 
servants are a-talking on? ” said Blathers. 

Nothing at all,” replied the doctor. One of the 
frightened servants chose to take it into his head that 
he had something to do with this attempt to break into 
the house, but it’s nonsense — sheer absurdity! ” 

^‘^W^ery easily disposed of if it is,” remarked Duff. 

What he says is quite correct,” observed Blathers, 
nodding his head and playing carelessly with the hand- 
cuffs as if they were a pair of castanets. Who is the 
boy? What account does he give of himself? Where 
did he come from? He didn’t drop out of the clouds, 
did he, master? ” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


201 


Of course not! replied the doctor with a nervous 
glance at the two ladies. know his whole history, but 
we can talk about that presently. You would like first 
to see the place where the thieves made their attempt, 
I suppose? 

Certainly,^’ rejoined Mr. Blathers. ^^We had better 
inspect the premises first, and examine the servants 
arterward. ThaBs the usual way of doing business.^^ 

Lights were then procured, and Messrs. Blathers 
and Duff, attended by the native constable, Brittles, 
Giles, and everybody else, in short, went into the room 
at the end of the passage and looked out of the window; 
and afterward went round by way of the lawn and 
looked in at the window; and after that had a candle 
handed out to inspect the shutter with; and after that 
a lantern to trace the footsteps with; and after that a 
pitchfork to poke the bushes with. This done, amid 
the breathless interest of all the beholders, they came 
in again, and Mr. Giles and Brittles were put through 
a thrilling account of their share in the previous night^s 
adventures. 

Blathers and Duff cleared the room and held a long 
council together with great secrecy and solemnity. 

Meanwhile the doctor walked up and down the next 
room in a very uneasy state, and Mrs. Maylie and Rose 
looked on with anxious faces. 

Upon my word,^^ he said, making a halt after a 
great number of very rapid turns, I hardly know what 
to do!’^ 

Surely,’^ said Rose, the poor child^s story, faith- 
fully repeated to those men, will be sufficient to clear 
him.^^ 

I doubt it, my dear young lady,^^ said the doctor, 
shaking his head. donT think it would clear him 
either with them or with lawyers. What is he, after 


202 


THE STOKY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


all, they would say? .A run-away. Judged by mere 
worldly considerations and probabilities, his story is a 
very doubtful one.^^ 

You believe it, surely? interrupted Rose. 

I believe it, strange as it is, and perhaps I may be 
an old fool for doing so,^^ rejoined the doctor; but I 
don^t think it is exactly the tale for a practiced police 
officer, nevertheless.^^ 

Why not?^^ demanded Rose. 

Because, my pretty cross-examiner,’’ replied the 
doctor — because, viewed with their eyes, there are 
many ugly points about it; he can only prove the parts 
that look ill, and none of those that look well. Con- 
found the fellows! they will have the why and the 
wherefore, and will take nothing for granted. On his 
own showing, you see, he has been the companion of 
thieves for some time past; he has been carried to a 
police office on charge of picking a gentleman’s pocket; 
he has been taken away forcibly from the gentleman’s 
house to a place which he can not describe or point 
out, and of the situation of which he has not the remot- 
est idea. He is brought down to Chertsey by men who 
seem to have taken a violent fancy to him, whether he 
will or no, and is put through a window to rob a house; 
and then, just ^t the very moment when he is going to 
alarm the inmates, and so do the very thing that would 
set him all to rights, there rushes into his way a blun- 
dering dog of a half-bred butler and shoots him, as 
if on purpose to prevent his doing any good for him- 
self. Don’t you see all this ? ” 

I see it, • of course,” replied Rose, smiling at the 
doctor’s eagerness; but still I do not see anything in 
it to criminate the poor child.” 

replied the doctor, of course not! Bless 
your bright eyes! ” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


203 


The doctor put his hands into his pockets and walked 
up and down the room with even greater rapidity than 
before. 

The more I think of it/’ he said, the more I see 
that it will occasion endless trouble and difficulty if we 
tell these men the boy’s real story. I am certain it will 
not be believed.” 

Oh, what is to he done?” cried Rose. Dear, 
dear, why did they send for these people? ” 

Why, indeed! ” exclaimed Mrs. May lie. I would 

not have had them here for the world.” 

All I know is,” said Mr. Losberne at last, sitting 
down with a kind of desperate calmness, that we must 
try and carry it off with a bold face. The object is a 
good one, and that must be our excuse. The boy has 
strong symptoms of fever upon him, and he is in no 
condition to be talked to any more, that’s one comfort. 
We must make the best of it, and, if had Be the best, it 
is no fault of ours. — Come in.” 

Well, master,” said Blathers, entering the room, 
followed by his colleague, and making the door fast 
before he said any more, this warn’t a put-up thing.” 

And what on earth is a put-up thing? ” demanded 
the doctor impatiently. 

We call it a put-up robbery, ladies,” said Blathers, 
turning to them, as if he pitied their ignorance, hut 
had a contempt for the doctor’s, when the servants is 
in it.” 

Nobody suspected them in this case,” said Mrs. 
Maylie. 

Wery likely not, ma’am,” replied Blathers; hut 
they might have been in it for all that.” 

More likely on that wery account,” said Duff. 

We find it was a town hand,” said Blathers, con- 
tinuing his report, for the style of work is first-rate.” 


204 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Wery pretty, indeed, it is,'^ remarked Duff in an 
undertone. 

There was two of them in it,’^ continued Blathers, 
and they had a boy with ^em, thaFs plain from the size 
of the window. Thaffs all to be said at present. WeTl 
see this lad that youVe got upstairs at once, if you 
please.^^ 

Closely following Mr. Losherne, the two officers 
ascended to Olivers bedroom, Mr. Giles preceding the 
party with a lighted candle. 

Oliver had been dozing, hut looked worse and was 
more feverish than he had appeared yet. Being assisted 
by the doctor, he managed to sit up in bed for a minute 
or so, and looked at the strangers without at all under- 
standing what was going forward — in fact, without 
seeming to recollect where he was or what had been 
passing. 

This,’’ said Mr. Losberne, speaking softly, but with 
great vehemence notwithstanding, this is the lad who, 
being accidentally wounded by a spring gun in some 
boyish trespass on Mr. What-d’ye-call-him’s grounds 
at the back here, comes to the house for assistance this 
morning, and is immediately laid hold of and mal- 
treated by that gentleman with the candle in his hand, 
who has placed the boy’s life in considerable danger, 
as I can certify.” 

Messrs. Blathers and Duff looked at Mr. Giles as he 
was thus recommended to their notice. The bewildered 
butler gazed from them toward Oliver and from Oliver 
toward Mr. Losberne with a most amusing mixture of 
fear and perplexity. 

^^Y^ou don’t mean to deny that, I suppose?” said 
the doctor, laying Oliver gently down again. 

It was all done for the best, sir,” answered Giles. 
I am sure I thought it was the boy, or I wouldn’t have 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


205 


meddled with him. I am not of a cruel disposition, 
sir.^^ 

Thought it was what hoy? inquired the senior 
officer. 

The housebreaker^s boy, sir! replied Giles. 

They — they certainly had a boy.’^ 

^^Well, do you think so now?^^ inquired Blathers. 

Think what now ? replied Giles, looking vacant- 
ly at his questioner. 

Think it is the same boy, stupid head?^^ rejoined 
Blathers impatiently. 

I donT know, I really donT know,^^ said Giles with 
a rueful countenance. I couldn’t swear to him.” 

What do you think ? ” asked Mr. Blathers. 

I don’t know what to think,” replied poor Giles. 

I don’t think it is the hoy; indeed, I’m certain that it 
isn’t. You know it can’t be.” 

Has the man been a-drinking, sir? ” inquired 
Blathers, turning to the doctor. 

What a precious muddle-headed chap you are,” 
said Duff, addressing Mr. Giles with supreme contempt. 

Mr. Losberne had been feeling the patient’s pulse 
during this short dialogue, hut he now arose from the 
chair by the bedside and remarked that if the officers 
had any doubt upon the subject they would perhaps like 
to step into the next room and have Brittles before 
them. 

Acting upon this suggestion, they went into a neigh- 
boring apartment, where Mr. Brittles, being called in, 
involved himself and his respected superior in such a 
wonderful maze of fresh contradictions and impossibili- 
ties as tended to throw no particular light on anything 
except, indeed, his declarations that he shouldn’t know 
the real hoy if he were put before him that instant; 
that he had onlv taken Oliver to he he because Mr. Giles 


206 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


had said he was, and that Mr. Giles had five minutes 
before admitted in the kitchen that he began to be very 
much afraid he had been a little too hasty. 

The question was then raised whether Mr. Giles had 
really hit anybody, and, upon examination of a pistol 
like that which he had fired, it turned out to have no 
more destructive loading than gunpowder and brown 
paper — a discovery which made a considerable impres- 
sion on everybody but the doctor, who had drawn the 
ball about ten minutes before. Upon no one, however, 
did it make a greater impression than on Mr. Giles him- 
self, who, after laboring for some hours under the fear 
of having wounded a fellow-creature, eagerly caught at 
this new idea, and favored it to the utmost. Finally, 
the officers, without troubling themselves very much 
about Oliver, left the Chertsey constable in the house 
and took up their rest for that night in the town, prom- 
ising to return next morning. 

With the next morning there came a rumor that 
two men and a boy were in the jail at Kingston who had 
been arrested under suspicious circumstances, and to 
Kingston Messrs. Blathers and Duff journeyed accord- 
ingly. The suspicious circumstances, however, were 
simply the fact that they had been discovered sleeping 
under a haystack, and so Messrs. Blathers and Duff came 
back again as wise as they went. 

In short, after some examination and a great deal 
more conversation, a neighboring magistrate was easily 
persuaded to take the joint bail of Mrs. Maylie and Mr. 
Losberne for Oliver’s appearance if he should ever be 
called upon; and Blathers and Duff being rewarded 
with a couple of guineas, returned to town with divided 
opinion's on the subject of their expedition, the latter 
gentleman inclining to the belief that the attempt at 
robbery had originated with the Family Pet, and the 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


207 


former being equally disposed to give the credit to the 
great Mr. Conkey Chickweed. 

Meanwhile Oliver gradually throve and prospered 
under the united care of Mrs. Maylie^ Rose, and the 
kind-hearted Mr. Losberne. If fervent prayers gushing 
from hearts filled with gratitude be heard in heaven — 
and if they be not, what prayers are? — the blessings 
which the orphan child called down upon them sunk 
into their souls, diffusing peace and happiness. 


15 


CHAPTEE XXXII. 


Oliver’s ailings were neither slight nor few. In 
addition to the pain and delay attendant on a broken 
limb^ his exposure to the wet and cold had brought on 
fever and ague, which hung about him for many weeks 
and reduced him sadly. But at length he began by 
slow degrees to get better, and to be able to say some- 
times in a few tearful words how deeply he felt the 
goodness of the two sweet ladies, and how he hoped 
that when he grew strong and well again he could do 
something to show his gratitude. 

Poor fellow! ” said Eose when Oliver had been one 
day feebly endeavoring to utter the words of thankful- 
ness that rose to his pale lips, you shall have many 
opportunities of serving us if you will. We are going 
into the country, and my aunt intends that you shall 
accompany us. The quiet place, the pure air, and all 
the pleasures and beauties of spring will restore you 
in a few days. We will employ you in a hundred ways 
when you can hear the trouble.” 

^^The trouble!” cried Oliver. Oh, dear lady, if 
I could hut work for you, if I could only give you 
pleasure by watering your flowers or watching your 
birds or running up and down the whole long day to 
make you happy, what would I give to do it! ” 

^^You shall give nothing at all!” said Miss Maylie, 
smiling, for, as I told you before, we shall employ you 
208 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


209 


in a hundred ways, and if you only take half the trouble 
to please us that you promise now you will make me 
very happy indeed/^ 

Happy, ma^am! cried Oliver; how kind of you 
to say so! 

You will make me happier than I can tell you! 
replied the young lady. To think that my dear good 
aunt should he the means of rescuing any one from such 
sad misery as you have described to us would be an un- 
speakable pleasure to me; hut to know that the object 
of her goodness and compassion was sincerely grateful 
and attached in consequence would delight me 
more than you can well imagine. Do you understand 
me ? she inquired, watching Oliver^s thoughtful 
face. 

Oh, yes, ma’am, yes! ” replied Oliver eagerly; but 
I was thinking that I am ungrateful now.” 

To whom ? ” inquired the young lady. 

To the kind gentleman and the dear old nurse 
who took so much care of me before,” rejoined Oliver. 

If they knew how happy I am they would be pleased, 
I am sure.” 

am sure they would,” rejoined Oliver’s bene- 
factress; and Mr. Losberne has already been kind 
enough to promise that when you are well enough to 
bear the journey he will carry you to see them.” 

Has he, ma’am ? ” cried Oliver, his face brighten- 
ing with pleasure. I don’t know what I shall do for 
joy when I see their kind faces once again.” 

In a short time Oliver was sufficiently recovered to 
undergo the fatigue of this expedition. One morning 
he and Mr. Losberne set out accordingly, in a little car- 
riage which belonged to Mrs. Maylie. 

As Oliver knew the name of the street in which Mr. 
Brownlow resided, they were enabled to drive straight 


210 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


thither. 'When the coach turned into it his heart heat 
so violently that he could scarcely draw his breath. 

‘^'Nowy my boy, which house is it?^^ inquired Mr. 
Losberne. 

^^That! that! replied Oliver, pointing eagerly out 
of the window. The white house. Oh, make haste! 
Pray, make haste! I feel as if I should die; it makes 
me tremble so.^^ 

Come, come,^^ said the doctor, patting him on the 
shoulder. You will see them directly, and they will 
be overjoyed to find you safe and well.'’^ 

Oh, I hope so! cried Oliver. They were so 
good to me, so very, very good to me! 

The coach rolled on. It stopped. Yo, that w^as the 
wrong house; the next door. It went on a few paces 
and stopped again. Oliver looked up at the windows 
with tears of happy expectation coursing down his 
face. 

Alas! the white house was empty, and there was a 
hill in the window, To Let.^^ 

Knock at the next door,’^ cried Mr. Losberne, tak- 
ing Olivers arm in his. What has become of Mr. 
Brownlow, who used to live in the adjoining house, do 
you know? 

The servant did not know, but would go and in- 
quire. She presently returned and said that Mr. Brown- 
low had sold off his goods and gone to the West Indies 
six weeks before. Oliver clasped his hands and sank 
feebly backward. 

Has his housekeeper gone, too ? inquired Mr. 
Losberne after a moment^s pause. 

Yes, sir,^^ replied the servant. The old gentle- 
man, the housekeeper, and a gentleman who was a friend 
of Mr. Brownlow^s all went together.^^ 

Then turn toward home again,^^ said Mr. Losberne 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


211 


to the driver, and don’t stop to bait the horses till 
you get out of this confounded London! ” 

The bookstall keeper, sir? ” said Oliver. I know 
the way there. See him, pray, sir! Do see him! ” 

My poor hoy, this is disappointment enough for 
one day,” said the doctor. Quite enough for both of 
us. If we go to* the bookstall keeper’s we shall certainly 
find that he is dead or has set his house on fire or run 
away. No, home again straight! ” and in obedience to 
the doctor’s impulse home they went. 

This bitter disappointment caused Oliver much 
sorrow and grief even in the midst of his happiness, for 
he had pleased himself many times during his illness 
with thinking of all that Mr. Brownlow and Mrs. Bed- 
win would say to him, and what delight it would be to 
tell them how many long days and nights he had passed 
in reflecting on what they had done for him and in be- 
wailing his cruel separation from them. 

The circumstance occasioned no alteration, however, 
in the behavior of his benefactors. After another fort- 
night, when the fine warm weather had fairly begun 
and every tree and flower was putting forth its young 
leaves and rich blossoms, they made preparation for 
quitting the house at Chertsey for some months. Send- 
ing the plate which had so excited Fagin’s cupidity to 
the banker’s, and leaving Giles and another servant in 
the care of the house, they departed to a cottage at some 
distance in the country, and took Oliver with them. 

It was a happy time. The days were peaceful and 
serene, and the nights brought with them neither fear 
nor care. 

And when Sunday came, how differently the day 
was spent from any way which he had ever spent it yet! 
and how happily, too, like all the other days in that 
most happy time! There was the little church in the 


212 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


morning, with the green leaves fluttering at the win- 
dows, the birds singing without, and the sweet-smelling 
air stealing in at the low porch and filling the homely 
building with its fragrance. The poor people were so 
neat and clean, and kneeled so reverently in prayer that 
it seemed a pleasure, not a tedious duty, their assem- 
bling here together. 

So three months glided away — three months which, 
in the life of the most blessed and favored of mortals, 
might have been unmingled happiness, and which in 
Oliver’s were true joy. 


CHAPTEE XXXIII. 


Spring flew swiftly by and summer came. 

Still the same quiet life went on at the little cot- 
tage^ and there was the same cheerful serenity among its 
inmates. Oliver had long since grown stout and healthy, 
but he was the same gentle, attached, affectionate crea- 
ture that he had been when pain and suffering had 
wasted his strength. 

One beautiful night they had taken a longer walk 
than was customary with them, for the day had been 
unusually warm, and there was a brilliant moon and a 
light wind had sprung up which was unusually refresh- 
ing. Eose had been in high spirits, too, and they had 
walked on in merry conversation until they had far 
exceeded their bounds. Mrs. Maylie being fatigued, 
they had returned home more slowly. The young lady, 
merely throwing off her simple bonnet, sat down to the 
piano as usual. After running over the keys for a few 
minutes, she fell into a low and very solemn air, and as 
she played it they heard a sound as if she were weeping. 

Eose, my love,’’ cried Mrs. Maylie, rising hastily 
and bending over her. What is this — in tears ? My 
dear child, what distresses you ? ” 

^^Xothing, aunt, nothing,” replied the young lady. 

I don’t know what it is; I can’t describe it, but I 
feel ” 

Xot ill, my love?” interposed Mrs. Maylie. 

213 


214 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


no! Oh, not ill! replied Rose shuddering 
as though some deadly chillness were passing over her 
while she spoke. I shall be better presently. Close 
the window, pray! 

Oliver hastened to obey her request. Covering her 
face with her hands, she sank upon a sofa and gave vent 
to the tears which she was now unable to check. 

My child! said the elderly lad}^ folding her arms 
about her, I never saw you thus hefore.^^ 

I would not alarm you if I could help it,’^ replied 
Rose, but I fear I am ill, aunt.^^ 

She was, indeed, for when candles were brought they 
saw that in the very short time which had passed since 
their return home the hue of her countenance had 
changed to a marble whiteness. Another minute and 
it was suffused with a crimson flush, and a heavy wild- 
ness came over the soft blue eye. Again this disap- 
peared, like the shadow thrown by a passing cloud, and 
she was once more deadly pale. 

Oliver, who watched the old lady anxiously, saw that 
she was alarmed by these appearances; and so, in truth, 
was he, but, seeing that she pretended to make light of 
them, he tried to do the same, and they so far suc- 
ceeded that when Rose was persuaded by her aunt to 
retire for the night she was in better spirits, and ap- 
peared even in better health, assuring them that she 
felt certain she should rise in the morning quite well. 

I hope,^^ said Oliver when Mrs. Maylie returned, 
^^that nothing is the matter? She doesn’t look well 
to-night, but ” 

The old lady motioned to him not to speak, and, sit- 
ting herself down in a dark corner of the room, re- 
mained silent for some dime. At length she said in a 
trembling voice: 

I hope not, Oliver. I have been very happy with 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


215 


her for some years — too happy, perhaps. It may be that 
I should meet with some misfortune, but I hope ^it is 
not this.^^ 

^^What?^^ inquired Oliver. 

The heavy blow,^^ said the old lady, of losing the 
dear girl who has so long been my comfort and happi- 
ness.^^ 

Oh, God forbid! exclaimed Oliver hastily. 

Amen to that, my child! said the old lady, wring- 
ing her hands. 

An anxious night followed. When morning came, 
Mrs. Maylie^^ fears were too well justified. Eose was 
in the first stage of a high and dangerous fever. 

We must be active, Oliver, and not give way to 
useless grief,^^ said Mrs. Maylie, laying her finger on 
her lip as she looked steadily into his face. This letter 
must be sent with all possible speed to Mr. Losberne. 
It must be carried to the market town, which is not 
more than four miles off, by the footpath across the 
fields, and thence sent by an express on horseback 
straight to Chertsey. The people at the inn will under- 
take to do this, and I can trust to you to see it done, I 
know.^^ 

Oliver could make no reply, but looked his anxiety 
to be gone at once. 

Here is another letter,” said Mrs. Maylie, pausing 
to reflect, but whether to send it now or wait until I 
see how Eose goes on I scarcely know. I would not 
forward it unless I feared the worst.” 

^Hs it for Chertsey, too, ma’am?” inquired Oliver, 
impatient to start on his errand, and holding out his 
trembling hand for the letter. 

^^Ho,” replied the old lady, giving it to him me- 
chanically. Oliver glanced at it and saw that it was 
directed to Harry Maylie, Esquire, at some great 


216 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


lord’s house in the country^ where, he could not make 
out. 

Shall it go, ma’am? ” asked Oliver, looking up 
impatiently. 

I think not,” replied Mrs. Maylie, taking it hack. 

I will wait until to-morrow.” 

With these words she gave Oliver her purse, and he 
started off without more delay at the greatest speed he 
could muster. 

Swiftly he ran across the fields and down the little 
lanes which sometimes divided them, now almost hidden 
by the high com on either side, and now coming out on 
an open field where the mowers and haymakers were 
busy at their work; nor did he stop once, save now and 
then for a few seconds to recover breath, until he came 
in a great heat and covered with dust on the little 
marketplace of the market town. 

Here he paused and looked about for the inn. There 
was a white bank and a red brewery and a yellow town 
hall, and in one corner there was a large house with all 
the wood about it painted green, before which was the 
sign of The George.” To this he hastened as soon as 
it caught his eye. 

He spoke to a postboy who was dozing under the 
gateway, and who, after hearing what he wanted, re- 
ferred him to the landlord. 

This gentleman walked with much deliberation into 
the bar to make out the bill, which took a long 
time; and after it was ready and paid a horse had 
to be saddled and a man to be dressed, which took up 
ten good minutes more. Meanwhile Oliver was in such 
a desperate state of impatience and anxiety that he felt 
as if he could have jumped upon the horse himself and 
galloped away full tear to the next stage. At length 
all was ready, and the little parcel having been handed 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


217 


.up with many directions and entreaties for its speedy 
delivery, the man set spurs to his horse and, rattling 
over the uneven paving of the marketplace, was out of 
the town and galloping along the turnpike road in a 
couple of minutes. 

As it was something to feel certain that assistance 
was sent for and that no time had been lost, Oliver hur- 
ried up the innyard with a somewhat lighter heart. He 
was turning out of the gateway when he accidentally 
stumbled against a tall man wrapped in a cloak who 
was at that moment coming out of the inn door. 

^^Hah!^^ cried the man, fixing his eyes on Oliver, 
and suddenly starting back. What^s this?^^ 

I beg your pardon, sir,^^ said Oliver. I was in 
a great hurry to get home, and didn’t see you coming.” 

Death! ” muttered the man to himself, glaring at 
the boy with his large dark eyes. Who would have, 
thought it! Grind him to ashes! He’d start up from a 
stone coffin to come in my way! ” 

I am sorry,” stammered Oliver, confused by the 
strange man’s wild looks. I hope I have not hurt 
you.” 

^^Rot you! ” murmured the man, in a horrible pas- 
sion, between his clinched teeth. If I had only the 
courage to say the word, I might have been free of you 
in a night. Curses on your head and black death on 
your heart, you imp! What are you doing here? ” 

The man shook his fist as he uttered these words 
confusedly. He advanced toward Oliver as if with the 
intention of aiming a blow at him, but fell violently on 
the ground, writhing and foaming, in a fit. 

Oliver gazed for a moment at the struggles of the 
madman (for such he supposed him to be), and then 
darted into the house for help. Having seen him safely 
carried into the hotel, he turned his face homeward. 


218 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


running as fast as he could to make up for lost time^ 
and recalling with a great deal of astonishment and 
some fear the extraordinary behavior of the person 
from whom he had just parted. 

The circumstance did not dwell in his recollection 
long, however, for when he reached the cottage there 
w^as enough to occupy his mind and to drive away all 
thought of self. 

Rose Maylie had rapidly grown worse; before mid- 
night she was delirious. A doctor who resided on the 
spot was in constant attendance upon her, and, after 
first seeing the patient, he had taken Mrs. Maylie aside 
and pronounced her disorder to be one of a most alarm- 
ing nature. 

The next morning the little cottage was lonely and 
still. People spoke in whispers; anxious faces appeared 
at the gate from time to time; women and children went 
away in tears. All the livelong day and for hours after 
it had grown dark Oliver paced softly up and down the 
garden, raising his eyes every instant to the sick cham- 
ber, and shuddering to see the darkened window, look- 
ing as if death lay stretched inside. Late at night Mr. 
Losberne arrived. ^Mt is hard,^^ said the good doctor, 
turning away as he spoke; so young, so much beloved, 
but there is very little hope.^^ 

Another morning. The sun shone brightly, as 
brightly as if it looked on no misery and care; and with 
every leaf and flower in full bloom about her, with life 
and health and sounds and sights of joy surrounding 
her on every side, the fair young creature lay, wasting 
fast. Oliver crept away to the old churchyard, and, 
sitting down on one of the green mounds, wept and 
prayed for her in silence. 

There was such peace and beauty in the scene, so 
much of brightness and mirth in the sunny landscape, 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


219 


such blithesome music in the songs of the summer birds, 
such freedom in the rapid flight of the rook careering 
overhead, so much of life and joyousness in all, that 
when the boy raised his aching eyes and looked about 
the thought occurred to him that this was not a time 
for death, that Eose could surely never die when hum- 
bler things were all so glad and gay. 

Oliver turned homeward, thinking on the many 
kindnesses he had received from the young lady, and 
wishing that the time could come over again, that he 
might never cease showing her how grateful and loving 
he was. 

When he returned home Mrs. Maylie was sitting in 
the little parlor. Oliver^s heart sank at sight of her, 
for she had never left the bedside of her niece, and he 
trembled to think what change could have driven her 
away. He learned that Eose had fallen into a deep 
sleep, from which she would waken either to recovery 
and life or to bid them farewell and die. 

They sat listening and afraid to speak for hours. 
The untasted meal was removed, and with looks that 
showed that their thoughts were elsewhere they watched 
the sun as he sank lower and lower. Their quick ears 
caught the sound of approaching footsteps. They both 
darted to the door as Mr. Losberne entered. 

What of Eose ? cried the old lady. Tell me at 
once. I can bear it; anything but suspense! Oh, tell 
me, in the name of Heaven! 

Y^ou must compose yourself, said the doctor, sup- 
porting her. Be calm, my dear ma^am, pray! 

Let me go, in God^s name! My dear child! She is 
dead! She is dying! ” 

^^I^o!^^ cried the doctor passionately. ^^As He is 
good and merciful, she will live to bless us all for years 
to come.^^ 


220 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


The lady fell upon her knees and tried to fold her 
hands together; but the energy which had supported her 
so long fled up to heaven with her flrst thanksgiving, 
and she sank into the friendly arms which were ex- 
tended to receive her. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


It was almost too much happiness to bear. Oliver 
felt stunned and stupefied by the unexpected intelli- 
gence; he could not weep or speak or rest. 

He took a long walk^ and the night was fast clos- 
ing in when he returned homeward laden with flowers 
which he had culled with peculiar care for the adorn- 
ment of the sick chamber. As he walked briskly along 
the road^ he heard behind him the noise of some vehicle 
approaching at a furious pace. Looking around, he saw 
that it was a post-chaise driven at a great speed, and, 
as the horses were galloping and the road narrow, he 
stood leaning against a gate until it should have passed 
him. 

As it dashed on, Oliver caught a glimpse of a man in 
a white nightcap. In another second or two the night- 
cap was thrust out of the chaise window, and a voice 
bellowed to the driver to stop, which he did as soon 
as he could pull up his horses. Then the nightcap 
once again appeared, and the same voice called Oliver 
by his name. 

Here,^^ cried the voice. Oliver, whaPs the news? 
Miss. Rose! Master 0-li-ver! 

Is it you, Giles? cried Oliver, running up to the 
chaise door. 

Giles popped out his nightcap again, preparatory 
to making some reply, when he was suddenly pulled 
221 


222 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


back by a young gentleman who occupied the other 
corner of the chaise and who eagerly demanded what 
was the news. 

^^In a word! cried the gentleman, better or 
worse ? 

Better, much better! replied Oliver hastily. 

Thank Heaven! exclaimed the gentleman. You 
are sure? 

Quite, sir,^^ replied Oliver. The change took 
place only a few hours ago, and Mr. Losberne says that 
all danger is at an end.^^ 

The gentleman said not another word, but, open- 
ing the chaise door, leaped out, and taking Oliver hur- 
riedly by the arm led him aside. 

^"^You are quite certain? Do not deceive me by 
awakening hopes that are not to be fulfilled.^^ • 

I would not for the world, sir,” replied Oliver. 

Indeed, you may believe me. Mr. Losberne’s words 
were that she would live to bless us all for many years 
to come. I heard him say so.” 

I think you had better go on to my mother’s in 
the chaise, Giles,” said the young gentleman. I would 
rather walk slowly on, so as to gain a little time before 
I see her. You can say I am coming.” 

As they walked along, Oliver glanced from time to 
time with much interest and curiosity at the newcomer. 
He seemed about five-and-twenty years of age, and was 
of the middle height; his countenance w^as frank and 
handsome, and his demeanor easy and prepossessing. 
Notwithstanding the difference between youth and age, 
he bore so strong a likeness to the old lady that Oliver 
would have had no great difficulty in imagining their' 
relationship if he had not already spoken of her as 
his mother. 

Mrs. Maylie was anxiously waiting to receive her 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


223 


son when he reached the cottage. The meeting did not 
take place without great emotion on both sides. 

Mother/^ whispered the young man, why did you 
not write before? 

I did/^ replied Mrs. Maylie, hut on reflection I 
determined to keep back the letter until I had heard 
Mr. Losberne’s opinion.^^ 

But why/^ said the young man — why run the 
chance of that occurring which so nearly happened ? If 
Rose had — I can not utter the word now^ — if this illness 
had terminated differently, how could you ever have 
forgiven yourself? How could I ever have known happi- 
ness again ? 

If that had been the case, Harry,’^ said Mrs. May- 
lie, fear your happiness would have been blighted, 
and that your arrival here a day sooner or a day later 
would have been of very, very little import.’’ 

And who can wonder if it be so, mother?” re- 
joined the young man, or why should I say iff It is — 
it is — you know it, mother — you must know it.” 

I know that she deserves the best and purest love 
the heart of man can offer,” said Mrs. Maylie. I know 
that the devotion and affection of her nature require 
no ordinary return, hut one that shall he deep and last- 
ing. If I did not feel this, and know, besides,, that a 
changed behavior in one she loved would break her 
heart, I should not feel my task so difflcult of perform- 
ance or have to encounter so many struggles in my own 
bosom when I take what seems to me to be the strict line 
of duty.” 

This is unkind, mother,” said Harry. Do you 
still suppose that I am a boy, ignorant of my own mind 
and mistaking the impulse of my own soul ? ” 

I think, my dear son,” returned Mrs. Maylie, lay- 
ing her hand upon his shoulder, that youth has many 
16 


224 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


generous impulses which do not last, and that among 
them are some which, being gratified, become only the 
more fleeting/^ 

Not so with me,^^ said the young man. The 
mental agony I have suffered during the last two days 
wrings from me the avowal to you of a passion which, 
as you well know, is not one of yesterday nor one I have 
lightly formed. On Rose, sweet, gentle girl! my heart 
is set as firmly as ever heart of man was set on woman. 
I have no thought, no view, no hope in life beyond her, 
and if you oppose me in this great stake you take my 
peace and happiness in your hands and cast them to the 
wind. Mother, think better of this and of me, and do 
not disregard the happiness of which you seem to think 
so little.'’^ 

Harry,^^ said Mrs. Maylie, it is because I think 
so much of warm and sensitive hearts that I would spare 
them from being wounded. But we have said enough, 
and more than enough, on this matter just now.^^ 

Let it rest with Rose, then,^^ interposed Harry. 
^^You will not press those overstrained opinions of 
yours so far as to throw any obstacle in my way? 

I will noV^ rejoined Mrs. Maylie; but I would 
have you consider 

have considered!’^ was the impatient reply; 
mother, I have considered years and years. My feel- 
ings remain unchanged, as they ever will, and why 
should I suffer the pain of a delay in giving them vent, 
which can be productive of no earthly good? No! Be- 
fore I leave this place Rose shall hear me.” 

She shall,” said Mrs. Maylie. 

There is something in your manner which would 
almost imply that she will hear me coldly, mother,” said 
the young man. 

Not coldly,” rejoined the old lady; far from it.” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


225 


How then ? urged the young man. She has 
formed no other attachment ? 

Ho, indeed/^ replied the mother; you have, or 
I mistake, too strong a hold on her affections already. 
What I would say,^^ resumed the old lady, stopping her 
son as he was about to speak, is this. Before you 
stake your all on this chance — before you suffer yourself 
to be carried to the highest point of hope — reflect for a 
few moments, my dear child, on Eose^s position, and 
consider what efl'ect this may have on her decision; de- 
voted as she is to us, with all the intensity of her noble 
mind, and with that perfect sacrifice of self which in 
all matters, great or trifling, has always been her char- 
acteristic.^^ 

What do you mean? 

That I leave you to discover,’’ replied Mrs. Maylie. 
must go hack to her. God bless you! ” 

I shall see you again to-night?” said the young 
man eagerly. 

By and by,” replied the lady, when I leave Rose.” 

You will tell her I am here?” said Harry. 

Of course,” replied Mrs. Maylie. 

And say how anxious I have been, and how much 
I have suffered, and how I long to see her. You will not 
refuse to do this, mother?” 

Ho,” said the old lady, I will tell her all.” And 
pressing her son’s hand affectionately, she hastened 
from the room. 

Mr. Losherne and Oliver had remained in another 
end of the apartment while this hurried conversation 
was proceeding. The former now held out his hand 
to Harry Maylie, and hearty greetings were exchanged 
between them. The doctor communicated a precise ac- 
count of his patient’s situation, which was as full of 
promises as Oliver’s statement had encouraged him to 

I 


226 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


hope, and to the whole of which Mr. Giles, who af- 
fected to be busy about the luggage, listened with greedy 
ears. 

The remainder of the evening passed cheerfully 
away, for the doctor was in high spirits, and, however 
fatigued or thoughtful Harry Maylie might have been 
at first, he was no proof against the worthy gentleman’s 
good humor, which displayed itself in a great variety 
of sallies and professional recollection, and an abun- 
dance of small jokes, which struck Oliver as being the 
drollest things he had ever heard. So they were as 
pleasant a party as under the circumstances they could 
well have been, and it was late before they retired with 
light and thankful hearts. 

Oliver rose next morning in better heart, and went 
about his usual early occupations with more hope and 
pleasure than he had known for many days. 

One beautiful evening, when the first shades of twi- 
light were beginning to settle upon the earth, Oliver sat 
at his window intent upon his books; gradually and by 
slow degrees he fell asleep. 

Oliver knew perfectly well that he was in his own 
little room, that his books were lying on the table be- 
fore him; that the sweet air was stirring among the 
creeping plants outside. And yet he was asleep. Sud- 
denly the scene changed, and the air became close and 
confined, and he thought, with a glow of terror, that 
he was in the Jew’s house again. There sat the hideous 
old man in his accustomed corner pointing at him, and 
whispering to another man with his face averted who 
sat beside him. 

Hush, my dear! ” he thought he heard the Jew 
say; it is he, sure enough. Come away.” 

He! ” the other man seemed to answer; could 
I mistake him, think you? If a crowd of ghosts were 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


227 


to put themselves in his exact shape, and he stood 
among them, there is something that would tell me how 
to point him out. If you buried him fifty feet deep and 
took me across his grave, I fancy I should know if there 
wasn^t a mark above it that he lay buried there! 

The man seemed to say this with such dreadful hatred 
that Oliver awoke with fear and started up. 

Good Heaven! what was that which sent the blood 
tingling through his heart, and deprived him of his 
voice and of power to move! There — there — at the 
window — close before him — so close that he could almost 
touch him before he started back, with his eyes peering 
into the room and meeting his, there stood the Jew. 
And beside him, white with rage or fear, or both, were 
the scowling features of the very man who had accosted 
him in the innyard. 

It was but an instant, a glance, a fiash before his 
eyes, and they were gone. But they had recognized 
him and he them, and their look was as firmly impressed 
upon his memory as if it had been deeply carved on 
stone and set before him from his birth. He stood 
transfixed for a moment, then, leaping from the win- 
dow into the garden, called loudly for help. 


CHAPTEE XXXV. 


When the inmates of the house, attracted by Oli- 
vers cries, hurried to the spot, they found him, pale 
and agitated, pointing in the direction of the meadows 
behind the house, and scarcely able to speak the words. 
The Jew! the Jew!^^ 

Mr. Giles was at a loss to understand what this out- 
cry meant, but Harry Maylie, whose perceptions were 
something quicker, and who had heard Oliver’s history 
from his mother, understood at once. 

^^What direction did he take?” he asked, catching 
up a heavy stick which was standing in the corner. 

That,” replied Oliver, pointing out the course the 
men had taken; I missed them in an instant.” 

Then they are in the ditch! ” said Harry. Fol- 
low and keep as near me as you can! ” So saying, he 
sprang over the hedge and darted off with a speed which 
rendered it a matter of exceeding difficulty for the 
others to keep near him. 

Giles followed as well as he could, and Oliver fol- 
lowed too, and in the course of a minute or two Mr. 
Losberne, who had been out walking and just then re- 
turned, tumbled over the hedge after them, and, picking 
himself up with more nimbleness than he could have 
been supposed to possess, struck into the same course 
at great speed, shouting all the while to know what 
was the matter. 


228 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


229 


On they went^ nor stopped they once to breathe until 
the leader, striking off into an angle of the field pointed 
out by Oliver, began to search narrowly the ditch and 
hedge adjoining, which afforded the remainder of the 
party time to come np and for Oliver to tell Mr. Los- 
berne the circumstances that had led to so vigorous a 
pursuit. 

The search was all in vain. There were not even 
the traces of recent footsteps to he seen. They stood 
now on the summit of a little hill commanding the open 
fields in every direction for three or four miles. There 
was the village in the hollow on the left; hut, in order 
to gain that, after pursuing the track Oliver had pointed 
out, the men must have made a circuit of open ground, 
which it was impossible they could have done in so 
short a time. A thick wood skirted the meadowland 
in another direction, but they could not have gained 
that shelter for the same reason. 

^^It must have been a dream, Oliver,^^ said Harry 
Maylie. 

Oh, no, indeed, sir,^^ replied Oliver, shuddering at 
the very recollection of the old wretch’s countenance; 

I saw him too plainly for that. I saw them both as 
plainly as I see you now.” 

^^Who was the other?” inquired Harry and Mr. 
Losherne together. 

The very same man I told you of, who came so . 
suddenly upon me at the inn,” said Oliver. We had 
our eyes fixed full upon each other, and I could swear 
to him.” 

They took this way?” demanded Harry. Are 
you sure? ” 

^^As I am that the men were at the window,” re- 
plied Oliver, pointing down as he spoke to the hedge 
which divided the cottage garden from the meadow. 


230 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


The tall man leaped over just there, and the Jew, 
running a few paces to the right, crept through that 
gap/^ 

The two gentlemen watched Oliver’s earnest face as 
he spoke, and, looking from him to each other, seemed 
to feel satisfied of the truth of what he said. Still, in 
no direction were there any appearances of the tram- 
pling of men in hurried flight. The grass was long, hut 
it was trodden down nowhere save where their own feet 
had crushed it. The sides and brinks of the ditches 
were of damp clay, but in no one place could they dis- 
cover the print of man’s shoes or the slightest mark 
which would indicate that any feet had pressed the 
ground for hours before. 

This is strange! ” said Harry. 

Strange!” echoed the doctor. Blathers and 
Duff themselves could make nothing out of it.” 

[NTotwithstanding the evidently useless nature of' 
their search, they did not stop until the coming on of 
night rendered it hopeless, and even then they gave 
it up unwillingly. 

On the next day fresh search was made, and the in- 
quiries renewed hut with no better success. On the fol- 
lowing day Oliver and Mr. Maylie went to the market 
town in the hope of seeing or hearing something of the 
men there; but this effort was equally fruitless, and 
after a few days the affair began to be forgotten. 

Meanwhile Rose was rapidly recovering. She had 
left her room, was able to go out, and, mixing once more 
with the family, carried joy into the hearts of all. 

But, although this happy change had a visible effect 
on the little circle, and although cheerful voices and 
merry laughter were once more heard in the cottage, 
there was at times an unusual restraint upon some there, 
even upon Rose herself, which Oliver could not fail to 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


231 


notice. Mrs. Maylie and her son were often closeted 
together for a long time, and more than once Eose ap- 
peared with traces of tears upon her face. 

At length one morning, when Rose was alone in the 
breakfast parlor, Harry Maylie entered, and with some 
hesitation begged permission to speak with her for a 
few moments. 

A few — a very few — will suffice, Rose,^^ said the 
young man, drawing his chair toward her. What I 
shall say has already presented itself to your mind; the 
most cherished hopes of my heart are not unknown to 
you, though from my lips you have not yet heard them 
stated.’^ 

Rose had been very pale from the moment of his 
entrance, but that might have been the effect of her re- 
cent illness. She merely bowed, and, bending over some 
plants that stood near, waited in silence for him to 
proceed. 

I — I — ought to have left here bef ore,^^ said Harry. 

You should, indeed,’^ replied Rose. Forgive me 
for saying so, but I wish you had.'’^ 

I was brought here by the most dreadful and ago- 
nizing of all fears,^^ said the young man; the fear of 
losing the one dear being on whom my every wish and 
hope are fixed. You had been dying, trembling between 
earth and heaven.’^ 

There were tears in the eyes of the gentle girl as 
these words were spoken, and one fell upon the fiower 
over which .she bent and glistened brightly in its cup, 
making it more beautiful. 

There was a pause, during which Rose, who had cov- 
ered her face with one hand, gave free vent to tears. 
Harry had taken the other. 

And your reasons, Rose,^^ he said at length, in a 
low voice; give me your reasons for this decision.^^ 


232 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Yes, Harry. I owe it to myself that I, a friend- 
less, penniless girl, should not give your friends reason 
to think that I had yielded to your first passion and 
fastened myself, a burden, on all your hopes and pro- 
jects. I owe it to you and yours to prevent you from 
opposing, in the warmth of your generous nature, this 
great obstacle to your progress in the world. The pros- 
pect before you is a brilliant one. All the honors to which 
great talents and powerful connections can help men 
in public life are in store for you. But these connec- 
tions are proud, and I will not mingle with such as may 
hold me in scorn.^^ 

One word more, Eose,^’ cried Harry, throwing 
himself before her. If I had been less — less fortu- 
nate, the world would call it — if some obscure and 
peaceful life had been my destiny — if I had been poor, 
sick, helpless — would you have turned from me then? 
Or is my probable advancement to riches and honor 
the cause of your refusal? 

Do not press me to reply,^^ answered Eose. The 
question does not arise, and never will. It is unfair, 
almost unkind, to urge it.’’ 

If your answer be what I almost dare to hope it 
is,” retorted Harry, it will shed a gleam of happiness 
upon my lonely way, and light the path before me.” 

Then if your lot had been differently cast,” re- 
plied Eose, ^^if you had been even a little, but not so 
far above me, if I could have been a fielp and comfort 
to you in any humble scene of peace and retirement, 
and not a blot and drawback in ambitious and distin- 
guished crowds, my answer would have been different. 
I have every reason to be happy, very happy now; but 
then, Harry, I own I should have been happier.” 

Busy recollections of old hopes cherished as a girl 
long ago crowded into the mind of Eose while making 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


233 


this confession, but they brought tears with them, as 
old hopes will when they come back withered, and they 
relieved her. 

I can not help this weakness, and it makes my pur- 
pose stronger,^^ said Rose, holding out her hand. I 
must leave you now, indeed.’^ 

I ask one promise,^^ said Harry. Once, and only 
once more — say within a year, but it may be much 
sooner — I may speak to you again on this subject for 
the last fTme.’^ 

Hot to press me to alter my right decision,^^ re- 
plied Rose, with a melancholy smile; it will be use- 
less.^^ 

Ho,” said Harry; to hear you repeat it if you 
will — finally repeat it! I will lay at your feet what- 
ever of station or fortune I may possess, and if you still 
cling to your present resolve, I will not try by word or 
act to change it.” 

Then let it be so,” rejoined Rose; it is but one 
pang the more, and by that time I may be able to bear 
it better.” 


CHAPTEE XXXVI. 


And so you are resolved to be my traveling com- 
panion this morning, eh? said the doctor, as Harry 
May lie joined him and Oliver at the breakfast table. 

Why, you are not of the same mind or intention two 
half hours together! 

You will tell me a different tale one of these days,^^ 
said Harry, coloring. 

I hope I may have good cause to do so,” replied 
Dr. Losberne, though I confess I donh think I shall. 
But yesterday morning you had made up your mind, 
in a great hurry, to stay here, and to accompany your 
mother, like a dutiful son, to the seaside. Before noon 
you announce that you are going to do me the honor 
of accompanying me as far as I go on your road to Lon- 
don. And at night you urge me, with great mystery, 
to start before the ladies are stirring; the consequence 
of which is that young Oliver here is pinned down to 
breakfast when he ought to be ranging the meadows 
after botanical phenomena of all kinds. Too bad, isn’t 
it, Oliver?” 

I should have been very sorry not to have been at 
home when you and Mr. Maylie went away, sir,” re- 
joined Oliver. 

That’s a fine fellow,” said the doctor; you shall 
come and see me when you return. But, to speak seri- 
ously, Harry, has my communication from the great 
234 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


235 


nobs produced this sudden anxiety on your part to be 
gone? 

The great nobs/^ replied Harry, under which 
designation I presume you include my most stately 
uncle, have not communicated with me at all since I 
have been here, nor, at this time of the year, is it likely 
that anything would occur to render necessary my im- 
mediate attendance among them/^ 

Weiy^ said the doctor, you are a queer fel- 
low/^ 

Oliver,^^ said Harry May lie in a low voice, let 
me speak a word to you/^ 

Oliver walked into the window recess to which Mr. 
Maylie beckoned him, much surprised at the mixture 
of sadness and boisterous spirits which his whole be- 
havior displayed. 

You can write well now?^^ said Harr}^ laying his 
hand upon his arm. 

I hope so, sir,^^ replied Oliver. 

I shall not be at home again perhaps for some 
time; I wish you would write to me — say once a fort- 
night, every other Monday — to the General Post Office 
in London. Will you? 

Oh, certainly, sir; I shall be proud to do it,^^ ex- 
claimed Oliver, greatly delighted with the commission. 

I should like to know how — how my mother and 
Miss Maylie are,^^ said the young man; and you can 
fill up a sheet telling me what walks you take and what 
you talk about, and whether she — they, I mean — seem 
happy and quite well. You understand me?^^ 

Oh, quite, sir, quite,^^ replied Oliver. 

I would rather you would not mention it to them/’ 
said Harry, hurrying over his words, because it might 
make my mother anxious to write to me oftener, and it 
is a trouble to worry her. Let it be a secret between 


236 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


you and me, and mind you tell me everything. I de- 
pend upon you.^^ 

There Mr. Maylie took leave of him, with many as- 
surances of his regard and protection. 

The doctor was in the chaise; Giles (who, it had 
been arranged, should be left behind) held the door open 
in his hand, and the women servants were in the gar- 
den looking on. Harry cast one slight glance at the 
latticed window, and jumped into the carriage. 

Drive on! cried he; hard, fast, full gallop! 
Nothing short of flying will keep pace with me to-day. 

Halloo! cried the doctor, letting down the front 
glass in a great hurry and shouting to the postilion; 

something very short of flying will keep pace with 
me. Do you hear? 

There was one looker-on, who remained with eyes 
fixed upon the spot where the carriage had disappeared 
long after it was many miles away, for behind the white 
curtain which had shrouded her from view when Harry 
raised his eyes toward the window sat Eose herself. 

He seems in high spirits and happy,^^ she said at 
length. I feared for a time he might be otherwise. 
I was mistaken. I am very, very glad.^^ 


CHAPTEK XXXYII. 


Me. Bumble sat in the workhouse parlor with his 
eyes moodily fixed on the cheerless grate. 

A great change had taken place in the position of 
his affairs. The laced coat and the cocked hat;, where 
were they? Mr. Bumble was no longer a beadle. 

He had married Mrs. Corney, and was master of the 
workhouse. Another beadle had come into power. On 
him the cocked hat;, gold-laced coat, and staff had all 
three descended. 

And to-morrow two months it was done! said 
Mr. Bumble with a sigh. It seems a age! 

Mr. Bumble might have meant that he had crowded 
a whole existence of happiness into the short space of 
eight weeks, but the sigh — there was a vast deal of 
meaning in the sigh. 

sold myself, said Mr. Bumble, pursuing the 
same strain of refiection, for six teaspoons, a pair 
of sugar tongs, and a milk pot, with a small quantity 
of second-hand furniture and twenty pound in money. 
I went very reasonable. Cheap, dirt cheap! 

Cheap ! cried a shrill voice in Mr. Bumblers ear; 
^^you would have been dear at any price, and dear 
enough I paid for you!^^ 

Mr. Bumble turned, and beheld the face of his in- 
teresting wife. 


237 


238 ’ the story of OLIVER TWIST. 


^^Are you going to sit snoring there all day?^^ in- 
quired Mrs. Bumble. 

I am going to sit here as long as I think proper, 
ma’am/^ rejoined Mr. Bumble; and although I was 
not snoring, I shall snore, gape, sneeze, laugh, or cry, 
as the humor strikes me, such being my right.^^ 

Your right! sneered Mrs. Bumble, with ineffable 
contempt. 

I said the word, ma’am,^^ said Mr. Bumble. The 
right of a man.^^ 

And what is the right of a woman, in the name 
of goodness? cried the widow of Mr. Corney de- 
ceased. 

To obey, ma^am,^^ thundered Mr. Bumble. Your 
late unfortunate husband should have taught it you, and 
then perhaps he might have been alive now. I wish he 
was, poor man! 

Mrs. Bumble dropped into a chair, and, with a loud 
scream that Mr. Bumble wag a hard-hearted brute, fell 
into a paroxysm of tears. 

But tears were not the things to find their way to 
Mr. Bumble’s soul; his heart was waterproof. He eyed 
his good lady with looks of great satisfaction, and 
begged in an encouraging manner that she would cry 
her hardest, the exercise being looked upon by the 
faculty as strongly improving to the health. 

^^It opens the lungs, washes the countenance, ex- 
ercises the eyes, and softens down the temper,” said 
Mr. Bumble. So cry away! ” 

As he discharged himself of this pleasantry, Mr. 
Bumble took his hat from a peg, and putting it on, 
rather rakishly, on one side, thrust his hands into his 
pockets, and sauntered toward the door. 

How, Mrs. Corney that was had tried the tears be- 
cause they were less troublesome than a manual as- 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


239 


sault; but she was quite prepared to make trial of the 
latter mode of proceeding, as Mr. Bumble was not long 
in discovering. 

Laying bare his head, the expert lady clasped him 
tightly round the throat with one hand and inflicted 
a shower of blows (dealt with singular vigor and dex- 
terity) upon it with the other. This done, she created 
a little variety by scratching his face and tearing his 
hair off; and, having by this time inflicted as much 
punishment as she deemed necessary for the offense, 
she pushed him over a chair, which was luckily well 
situated for the purpose, and defied him to talk about 
his rights again if he dared. 

Get up! said Mrs. Bumble in a voice of com- 
mand. And take yourself away from here unless you 
want me to do something desperate.^^ 

Mr. Bumble rose with a very rueful countenance, 
wondering much what something desperate might be. 
Picking up his hat, he looked toward the door. 

Are you going ? demanded Mrs. Bumble. 

Certainly, my dear, certainly,^^ rejoined Mr. Bum- 
ble, making a quicker motion toward the daor. I 
didn’t intend to — I’m going, my dear! You are so 
very violent that really I ” 

At this instant Mrs. Bumble stepped hastily for- 
ward to replace the carpet which had been kicked up in 
the scuffle. Mr. Bumble immediately darted out of the 
room without bestowing another thought on his un- 
finished sentence, leaving the late Mrs. Corney in full 
possession of the field. 

Mr. Bumble was fairly taken by surprise and fairly 
beaten. 

But the measure of his degradation was not yet full. 
After making a tour of the house, he came to a room 
where some of the paupers were usually employed in 
17 


240 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


washing the parish linen, whence the sound of voices in 
conversation now proceeded. 

Hem! said Mr. Bumble, summoning up all his 
native dignity. These women shall continue to re- ‘ 
spect my rights. Hallo! hallo there! What do you 
mean by this noise, you hussies ? 

With these words Mr. Bumble opened the door and 
walked in with a very fierce and angry manner, which 
was at once exchanged for a most humiliating and cow- 
ering air as his eyes unexpectedly rested on the form 
of his lady wife. 

My dear,^^ said Mr. Bumble, I didn’t know you 
were here.” 

Didn’t know I was here! ” repeated Mrs. Bumble. 

What do you do here ? ” 

I thought they were talking rather too much to 
he doing their work properly, my dear,” replied Mr. 
Bumble, glancing distractedly at a couple of old women 
at the washtuh. 

^^You thought they were talking too much?” said 
Mrs. Bumble. AVliat business is it of yours? ” 

Why, my dear ” urged Mr. Bumble submis- 

sively. 

I’ll tell you v/ha£, Mr. Bumble,” returned his lady. 
^^We don’t want any of your interference. You’re a 
great deal too fond of poking your nose into things that 
don’t concern you, making everybody in the house laugh 
the moment your hack is turned, and making yourself 
look like a fool every hour in the day. Be off, come! ” 

AVhat could Mr. Bumble do? He looked dejectedly 
round and slunk away, and as he reached the door 
the titterings of the paupers broke into a shrill chuckle 
of irrepressible delight. It wanted but this. He was 
degraded, he had lost caste and station before the very 
paupers. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


241 


All in two months! said Mr. Bumble^ filled with 
dismal thoughts. Two months! No more than two 
months ago I was not only my own master, hut every- 
body else’s, so far as the workhouse was concerned, and 
now! 

It was too much. Mr. Bumble boxed the ears of 
the boy who opened the gate for him (for he had reached 
the portal in his reverie), and walked distractedly into 
the street. 

He walked up one street and down another until ex- 
ercise made him thirsty. He passed a great many public 
houses, but at length paused before one in a by-way, 
whose parlor, as he gathered from a hasty peep over 
the blinds, was deserted save by one solitary customer. 
It began to rain heavily at the moment. This deter- 
mined him. Mr. Bumble stepped in, and, ordering 
something to drink as he, passed the bar, entered the 
apartment into which he had looked from the street. 

The man who was seated there was tall and dark, 
and wore a large cloak. He had the air of a stranger, 
and seemed, by a certain haggardness in his look, as 
well as by the dusty soils on his dress, to have traveled 
some distance. He eyed Bumble askance as he entered, 
but scarcely deigned to nod his head in acknowledg- 
ment of his salutation. 

Mr. Bumble had quite dignity enough for two, sup- 
posing even that the stranger had been more familiar; 
so he drank his gin and water in silence, and read the 
paper with great show of pomp and circumstance. 

It so happened, however, that Mr. Bumble felt every 
now and then a powerful inducement, which he could 
not resist, to steal a look at the stranger, and that when- 
ever he did so he withdrew his eyes in some confusion 
to find that the stranger was stealing a look at him. 

When they had encountered each other’s glance sev- 


242 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


eral times in this way, the stranger, in a harsh, deep 
voice, broke silence. 

Were you looking for me,” he said, when you 
peered in at the window ? ” 

^^Not that I am aware of, unless yoWre Mr. ” 

Here Mr. Bumble stopped short, for he was curious to 
know the stranger^s name, and thought in his impatience 
he might supply the blank. 

I see you were not,” said the stranger, an expres- 
sion of quiet sarcasm playing about his mouth, or 
you would have known my name. You don’t know it. 
I would recommend you not to inquire.” 

I meant no harm, young man,” observed Mr. Bum- 
ble majestically. 

And have done non,e,” said the stranger. 

Another silence succeeded this short dialogue, which 
was again broken by the stranger. 

I have seen you before, I think,” said he. You 
were differently dressed at that time, and I only passed 
you in the street, but I should know you again. You 
were beadle here once, were you not ? ” 

I was,” said Mr. Bumble in some surprise; parish 
beadle.” 

Just so,” rejoined the other, nodding his head. 

It was in that character I saw you. AVhat are you 
now? ” 

Master of the workhouse,” rejoined Mr. Bumble 
slowly and impressively — master of the workhouse, 
young man! ” 

The stranger smiled and nodded his head. 

Yow listen to me,” said he after closing the 
door and window. came down to this place to- 
day to iind you out, and by chance you walked into 
the very room I was sitting in while you were upper- 
most in my mind. I want some information from you. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


243 


I don’t ask you to give it for nothings slight as it is. 
Put up that^ to begin with.” 

As he spoke he pushed a couple of sovereigns across 
the table to his companion carefully^ as though unwill- 
ing that the chinking of money should be heard with- 
out. When Mr. Bumble had examined the coins to see 
that they were genuine^ and had put them up with 
much satisfaction in his waistcoat pockety he went on: 

Carry your memory back — let me see — twelve 
years last winter.” 

It’s a long time/’ said Mr. Bumble. Very good. 
I’ve done it.” 

The scene^ the wmrkhouse.” 

Good! ” 

And the time^ night.” 

Yes.” 

A boy was born there/’ said the stranger. 

A many boys/’ observed Mr. Bumble, shaking his 
head despondingly. 

I speak of one/’ cried the stranger, a meek- 
looking, pale-faced boy, who was apprenticed down here 
to a coffin-maker, and who afterward ran away to Lon- 
don, as it was supposed.” 

you mean Oliver! Young Twist! ” said Mr. 
Bumble. I remember him, of course. There wasn’t 
a obstinater young rascal ” 

It is not of him I want to hear; I’ve heard enough 
of him,” said the stranger, stopping Mr. Bumble in the 
very outset of a tirade on the subject of poor Oliver’s 
vices. It’s of the woman — the hag that nursed his 
mother. Where is she ? ” 

She died last winter,” rejoined Mr. Bumble. 

The man looked fixedly at him when he had given 
him this information, and, although he did not with- 
draw his eyes for some time afterward, his gaze grad- 


244 


THE SToi.f OF OLIVER TWIST. 


ually became vacant and abstracted^ and he seemed 
lost in thought. For some time he appeared doubtful 
whether he ought to be relieved or disappointed by the 
intelligence, but at length he breathed more freely, and, 
withdrawing his eyes, observed that it was no great mat- 
ter. With that he rose as if to depart. 

But Mr. Bumble was cunning enough, and he at 
once saw that there was some secret in the possession 
of his better half. He well remembered the night of 
old Sally’s death, which the occurrences of that day 
had given him good reason to recollect, as the occasion 
on which he had proposed to Mrs. Corney; and, al- 
though that lady had never confided in him, he had 
heard enough to know that Sally had made some confes- 
sion concerning the young mother of Oliver Twist. 
Hastily calling this ‘circumstance to mind, he informed 
the stranger, with an air of mystery, that one woman 
had been closeted with the old nurse shortly before she 
died, and that she could, as he had reason to believe, 
throw some light on the subject of his inquiry. 

How can I find her ? ” said the stranger, thrown 
off his guard, and plainly showing that all his fears 
(whatever they were) were aroused afresh. 

Only through me,” rejoined Mr. Bumble. 

AVhen ? ” cried the stranger hastily. 

To-morrow,” cried Bumble. 

At nine in the evening,” said the stranger, pro- 
ducing a scrap of paper and writing down upon it an 
obscure address by the waterside in characters that be- 
trayed his agitation — at nine in the evening bring 
her to me there. I needn’t tell you to be secret. It’s 
your interest.” 

With these words he led the way to the door. 
Shortly remarking that their roads were different, he 
departed. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


245 


On glancing at the address, Mr. Bumble observed 
that it contained no name. The stranger had not gone 
far, so he made after him to ask it. 

What do you want ? cried the man, turning 
quickly round as Bumble touched him on the arm. 
Following me! 

Only to ask a question,’^ said the other, pointing to 
the scrap of paper. What name am I to ask for? 

Monks! rejoined the man, and strode hastily 

away. 


CHAPTEE XXXYIII. 

It was a dull^ close^ overcast summer evening when 
Mr. and Mrs. Bumble, turning out of the main street 
of the town, directed their course toward a scattered 
little colony of ruinous houses distant from it some 
mile and a half or thereabout, and erected on a low, 
unwholesome swamp bordering upon the river. 

It was before a ruinous building that the worthy 
couple paused as the first peal of distant thunder 
sounded in the air, and the . rain commenced pouring 
violently down. 

The place should be somewhere here,^^ said Mr. 
Bumble, consulting a scrap of paper he held in his 
hand. 

Halloo there! cried a voice from above. 

Following the sound, Mr. Bumble raised his head 
and descried a man looking out of a door breast high 
on the second story. 

Stand still a minute,^^ cried the voice; Til be 
with you directly. With which the head disappeared 
and the door closed. 

Is that the man ? asked Mr. Bumble’s good lady. 

Mr. Bumble nodded in the affirmative. 

Then mind what I told you,” said the matron, 
^^and be careful to say as little as you can, or you’ll 
betray us at once.” 


246 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


247 


Come in! he cried impatiently, stamping his foot 
upon the ground. Don^t keep me here! 

The woman, who had hesitated at first, walked 
boldly in without any other invitation. Mr. Bumble, 
who was ashamed or afraid to lag behind, followed. 

What made you stand lingering there in the 
wet ? said Monks, turning round and addressing 
Bumble after he had bolted the door behind them. 

We — we were only cooling ourselves,^^ stammered 
Bumble, looking apprehensively about him. 

This is the woman, is it ? demanded Monks, for 
it was he who had opened the door. 

‘^Hem! that is the woman,^^ replied Mr. Bumble, 
remindful of his wife^s caution. 

You think women never can keep secrets, I sup- 
pose? said the matron, returning as she spoke the 
searching look of Monks. 

hTow,^^ said Monks, when they had all three seated 
themselves, the sooner we come to our business the 
better for all. The woman knows what it is, does she? 

The question was addressed to Bumble, but his wife 
anticipated the reply by intimating that she was per- 
fectly acquainted with it. 

He is right in saying that you were with this hag 
the night she died, and that she told you some- 
thing 

About the mother of the boy you named ? re- 
plied the matron, interrupting him. ^^Yes.^^ 

The first question is, of what nature was her com- 
munication ? said Monks. 

ThaBs the second,^^ observed the woman with 
much deliberation. The first is, what may the com- 
munication be worth ? ” 

Who cap tell that without knowing of what kind 
it is?^^ asked Monks. 


248 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Nobody better than you, I am persuaded/’ an- 
swered Mrs. Bumble. 

Humph! ” said Monks significantly, and with a 
look of eager inquiry, there may be money’s worth 
to get, eh? ” 

Perhaps there may,” was the reply. 

Something that was taken from her,” said Monks. 
Something that she wore. Something that ” 

Y^ou had better bid,” interrupted Mrs. Bumble. 
I have heard enough already to assure me that you 
are the man I ought to talk to. What’s it worth to 
you ? ” asked the woman as collectedly as before. 

It may be nothing, it may be twenty pounds,” 
replied Monks. Speak out, and let me know 
which.” 

Add five pounds to the sum you have named; give 
me five-and-twenty pounds in gold,” said the woman, 
and I’ll tell you all I know. Not before.” 

Five-and-twenty pounds ! ” exclaimed Monks, 
drawing back. 

I spoke as plainly as I could,” replied Mrs. Bum- 
ble. It’s not a large sum either.” 

Not a large sum for a paltry secret that may be 
nothing when it is told,” cried Monks impatiently, and 
which has been lying dead for twelve years past or 
more ? ” 

Such matters keep well, and, like good wine, often 
double their value in course of time,” answered the 
matron. 

What if I pay it for nothing? ” asked Monks, hesi- 
tating. 

You can easily take it away again,” replied the 
matron. I am but a woman alone here and unpro- 
tected.” 

Not alone, my dear, nor unprotected neither,” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


249 


submitted Mr. Bumble, in a voice tremulous with fear. 

I am here, my dear. And besides,^’ said Mr. Bumble, 
his teeth chattering as he spoke, Mr. Monks is too 
much of a gentleman to attempt any violence on parish 
persons.^^ 

So ! He’s your husband, eh ? ” 

He, my husband! ” tittered the matron, parrying 
the question. 

I thought as much when you came in,” rejoined 
Monks, marking the angry glance the lady darted at 
her spouse as she spoke. So much the better; I have 
less hesitation in dealing with two people when I find 
that there’s only one will between them. I’m in earnest. 
See here! ” 

He thrust his hand into his side pocket, and, produc- 
ing a canvas bag, told out twenty-five sovereigns on 
the table and pushed them over to the woman. 

Now,” he said, gather them up; let’s hear your 
story.” 

When this woman that we called old Sally died,” 
the matron began, she and I were alone.” 

Was there no one by? ” asked Monks in the same 
hollow whisper. 

Not a soul,” replied the woman; we were alone. 
I stood alone beside the body when death came over 
it.” 

Good! ” said Monks, regarding her attentively. 

Go on.” 

She spoke of a young creature,” resumed the 
matron, who had brought a child into the world some 
years before, not merely in the same room, but in the 
same bed in which she then lay d5dng.” 

Ay?” said Monks, with quivering lips, and glanc- 
ing over his shoulder. How things come about! ” 

The child was the one you named to him last 


250 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


night/^ said the matron, nodding carelessly toward her 
husband; the mother this nurse had rohhed.^^ 

In life? asked Monks. 

In death/^ replied the woman, with something 
like a shudder. She stole from the corpse that which 
the dead mother had prayed her with her last breath 
to keep for the infantas sake.^^ 

She stole it?^^ cried Monks with eagerness; did 
she sell it? Where? When? To whom? How long 
before? 

As she told me with great difficulty that she had 
done this,^^ said the matron, she fell back and died.^^ 

Without saying more? cried Monks in a voice 
which, from its very suppression, seemed only the more 
furious. It’s a lie! ITl not he played with. She said 
more. ITl tear the life out of you both, hut ITl know 
what it was.” 

She didn’t utter another word,” said the woman, 
to all appearance unmoved (as Mr. Bumble was very 
far from being) by the strange man’s violence; but 
she clutched my gown violently with one hand which 
was partly closed; and when I saw that she was dead, 
and so removed the hand by force, I found it clasped 
a scrap of dirty paper.” 

Which contained ? ” interposed Monks, stretching 
forward. 

^^Hothing,” replied the woman; ^ffit was a pawn- 
broker’s duplicate.” 

^^For what?” demanded Monks. 

In good time I’ll tell you,” said the woman. I 
judge that she had kept the trinket for some time, in 
the hope of turning it to better account, and then had 
pawned it, and had saved or scraped together money 
to pay the pawnbroker’s interest year by year, and pre- 
vented its running out, so that, if anything came of it. 


THE STORY OP OLIVER TWIST. 


251 


it could still be redeemed. Nothing had come of it, 
and, as I tell you, she died with the scrap of paper, all 
worn and tattered, in her hand. The time was out in 
two days; I thought something might one day come of 
it too, and so redeemed the pledge.^^ 

Where is it now ? asked Monks quickly. 

There!’’ replied the woman. And, as if glad to 
be relieved of it, she hastily threw upon the table a 
small kid bag scarcely large enough for a French watch, 
which Monks, pouncing upon, tore open with trembling 
hands. It contained a tiny gold locket, in which were 
two locks of hair and a plain gold wedding ring. 

It has the word ^ Agnes ^ engraved on the inside, 
said the woman. There is a blank left for the sur- 
name; and then follows the date, which is within a 
year before the child was born. I found that out.^’ 

And this is all ? said Monks, after a close and 
eager scrutiny of the contents of the little packet. 

All,^^ replied the woman. 

Mr. Bumble drew a long breath, as if he were glad 
to find that the story was over and no mention made 
of taking the five-and-twenty pounds back again. 

I know nothing of the story beyond what I can 
guess at,^^ said his wife, addressing Monks, after a short 
silence, and I want to know nothing, for its safer not. 
But I may ask you two questions, may I ? 

You may ask,^^ said Monks with some show of 
surprise, but whether I answer or not is another ques- 
tion.^’ 

^Ms that what you expected to get from me?” de- 
manded the matron. 

It is,” replied Monks. The other question ? ” 

What you propose to do with it? Can it be used 
against me ? ” 

Never,” rejoined Monks. Nor against me either. 


252 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


See here! But don’t move a step forward, or your life 
is not worth a bulrush.” 

With these words he suddenly wheeled the table 
aside, and, pulling an iron ring on the boarding, threw 
back a large trapdoor which opened close to Mr. Bum- 
ble’s feet, and caused that gentleman to retire several 
paces backward with great precipitation. 

Look down,” said Monks, lowering the lantern into 
the gulf. Don’t fear me. I could have let you down 
quietly enough when you were seated over it if that had 
been my game.” 

Thus encouraged, the matron drew near to the 
brink, and even Mr. Bumble himself, impelled by curi- 
osity, ventured to do the same. The turbid water, 
swollen by the heavy rain, was rushing rapidly on below, 
and all other sounds were lost in the noise of its plash- 
ing and eddying against the green and slimy piles. 

If you flung a man’s body down there, where 
would it be to-morrow morning?” said Monks, swing- 
ing the lantern to and fro in the dark well. 

Twelve miles down the river, and cut to pieces 
besides,” replied Bumble, recoiling at the thought. 

Monks drew the little packet from his breast, and, 
tying it to a leaden weight which had formed a part 
of some pulley and was lying on the floor, dropped it 
into the stream. It fell straight and true as a die, and 
w^as gone. 

The three, looking into each other’s faces, seemed 
to breathe more freely. 

There,” said Monks, closing the trapdoor, which 
fell heavily back into its former position. If the sea 
ever gives up its dead, as books say it will, it will keep 
its gold and silver to itself, and that trash among it. 
We have nothing more to say, and may break up our 
pleasant party.” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


253 


By all means/^ observed Mr. Bumble with great 
alacrity. 

ITouTl keep a quiet tongue in your head, will 
you?^^ said Monks with a threatening look. Fm not 
afraid of your wife.’^ 

You may depend on me, young man,^^ answered 
Mr. Bumble. On everybody’s account, young man; 
on my own, you know, Mr. Monks.” 

am glad, for your sake, to hear it,” remarked 
Monks. Light your lantern, and get away from here 
as fast as you can.” 

They were no sooner gone than Monks, who ap- 
peared to dislike to be left alone, called to a boy who 
had been hidden somewhere below. Bidding him to 
go first and bear the light, he returned to the chamber 
he had just left. 


CHAPTEE XXXIX. 


On the evening following that upon which the three 
people mentioned in the last chapter disposed of their 
little matter of business^ Mr. William Sikes, awakening 
from a nap, drowsily growled forth an inquiry what 
time of night it was. 

The room in which Mr. Sikes asked this question was 
not one of those he had occupied previous to the Chert- 
sey expedition, although it was in the same quarter 
of the town. It was a mean and badly furnished apart- 
ment, of very limited size, lighted only by one small 
window in the shelving roof, and opening on a close and 
dirty lane. A great scarcity of furniture and total ab- 
sence of comfort, together with the disappearance of 
all such small articles as spare clothes and linen, be- 
spoke a state of extreme poverty. 

The housebreaker was lying on the bed wrapped in 
his white greatcoat by way of dressing gown, and dis- 
playing a set of features in no degree improved by the 
hue of illness and the addition of a soiled nightcap and 
a stiff black heard of a week’s growth. Seated by the 
window, busily engaged in patching an old waistcoat 
which formed a portion of the robber’s ordinary dress, 
was a woman so pale and thin from watching and priva- 
tion that it was difficult to recognize her as the same 
Xancy who has already figured in this tale. 

254 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 255 

Not long gone seven/^ said the girl^ in answer to 
BilFs question. How do you feel to-night, Bill?^^ 

As weak as water/^ replied Mr. Sikes. Here, 
lend us a hand, and let me get off this thundering bed, 
anyhow.'’^ 

Illness had not improved Mr. Sikeses temper, for, 
as the girl raised him up and led him to a chair, he 
muttered various curses on her awkwardness and struck 
her. 

Whining, are you?’^ said Sikes. Come, don’t 
stand sniveling there! If you can’t do anything better 
than that, cut off altogether. D’ye hear me ? ” . 

I hear you,” replied the girl, turning her face 
aside and forcing a laugh. What fancy have you got 
in your head now?” 

Oh, you’ve thought better of it, have you?” 
growled Sikes. All the better for you if you 
have! ” 

Why, you don’t mean to say you’d be hard on me 
to-night. Bill,” said the girl, laying her hand upon his 
shoulder. 

No! ” cried Mr. Sikes. Why not? ” 

Such a number of nights,” said the girl with a 
touch of woman’s tenderness, which communicated 
something like sweetness of tone even to her voice — 
such a number of nights as I’ve been patient with 
you, nursing and caring for you as if you’d been a child, 
and this the first that I’ve seen you like yourself; you 
wouldn’t have served me as you did just now if you’d 
thought of that, would you ? ” 

Well, then,” rejoined Mr. Sikes, I wouldn’t. 
Why, now, the girl’s whining again.” 

It’s nothing,” said the girl, throwing herself into 
a chair. Don’t you seem to mind me.” 

^^What foolery are you up to now?” demanded 
18 


256 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Mr. Sikes in a savage voice. Get up and bustle about, 
and don’t come over me with your nonsense.” 

At any other time this remonstrance and the tone 
in which it was delivered would have had the desired 
effect, but the girl, being really weak and exhausted, 
dropped her head over the back of the chair and fainted. 
'Not knowing very well what to do in this uncommon 
emergency, Mr. Sikes called for assistance. 

What’s the matter here, my dear? ” said the Jew, 
looking in. 

Lend a hand to the girl, can’t you,” cried Sikes 
impatiently. Don’t stand chattering and grinning 
at me.” 

With an exclamation of surprise, Fagin hastened to 
the girl’s assistance, while Mr. John Dawkins (other- 
wise the Artful Dodger), who had followed his vener- 
able friend into the room, hastily deposited on the floor 
a bundle with which he was laden, and snatching a 
bottle from the grasp of Master Charles Bates, who came 
close at his heels, uncorked it in a twinkling with his 
teeth and poured a portion of its contents down the 
patient’s throat, previously taking a taste himself to 
prevent mistakes. 

Give her a whiff of fresh air with the bellows, 
Charley,” said Mr. Dawkins, and you slap her hands, 
Fagin.” 

The girl gradually recovered her senses, and, stag- 
gering to a chair by the bedside, hid her face upon the 
pillow, leaving Mr. Sikes to confront the newcomers in 
some astonishment at their unlooked-for appearance. 

Why, what evil wind has blowed you here ? ” he 
asked of Fagin. 

N'o evil wind at all, my dear,” replied the Jew, 
for evil winds blow nobody any good, and Fve brought 
something good with me that you’ll be glad to see. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


257 


Dodger, my dear, open the bundle, and give the little 
trifles that we spent all our money on this morning/’ 
In compliance with Mr. Fagin’s request, the Artful 
untied his bundle and handed the articles it contained 
one by one to Charley Bates, who placed them on the 
table, with various praises of their rarity and excel- 
lence. 

The things is well enough in their way,” observed 
Mr. Sikes, a little soothed as he glanced over the table, 
but what have you got to say for yourself why you 
should leave me here, down in the mouth, health, and 
everything else, and take no more notice of me all this 
mortal time than if I was that ’ere dog of mine ? ” 

couldn’t help it. Bill,” replied the Jew. I 
can’t go into a long explanation before company; but 
I couldn’t help it, upon my honor! ” 

That’s all very well,” said Mr. Sikes; but I must 
have some money from you to-night.” 

I haven’t a piece of coin about me,” replied the 

Jew. 

Then you’ve got lots at home,” retorted Sikes, 
and I must have some from there.” 

Lots! ” cried the Jew, holding up his hands. I 
haven’t so much as would ” 

I don’t know how much you’ve got, and I dare 
say you hardly know yourself, as it would take a pretty 
long time to count it,” said Sikes; but I must have 
some to-night, and that’s flat.” 

Well, well,” said the Jew with a sigh, I’ll send 
the Artful round presently.” 

You won’t do nothing of the kind,” rejoined Mr. 
Sikes. The Artful is a deal too artful, and would 
forget to come or lose his way or get dodged by traps 
and so be perwented, or anything for an excuse if you 
put him up to it. FTancy shall go and fetch it to make 


258 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


all sure^ and ITl lie down and have a snooze while she’s 
gone.” 

After a great deal of haggling and squabbling, the 
Jew agreed. Nancy prepared to accompany him home, 
while the Dodger and Master Bates put the eatables in 
the cupboard. The Jew, then taking leave of his af- 
fectionate friend, returned homewards, attended by 
Nancy and the boys. 

In due course they arrived at the Jew’s abode, where 
they found Toby Crackit and Mr. Chitling intent upon 
their fifteenth game at cribbage, which it is scarcely 
necessary to say the latter gentleman lost. Mr. Crackit 
soon took up his hat to go, and in obedience to a hint 
from Fagin the others also departed. 

Now,” said the Jew, when they had left the room, 
I’ll go and get you that cash, Nancy. Hush!” he 
added suddenly; who’s that? Listen! ” 

The girl, who was sitting at the table with her 
arms folded, appeared in no way interested in the ar- 
rival until the murmur of a man’s voice reached her 
ears. The instant she caught the sound she tore off her 
bonnet and shawl with the rapidity of lightning, and 
thrust them under the table. The Jew turning round 
immediately afterward, she muttered a complaint of the 
heat in a tone of languor that contrasted very remark- 
ably with the extreme haste and violence of this action, 
which, however, had been unobserved by Fagin, who 
had his hack toward her at the time. 

^^Bah!” whispered the Jew, as though nettled by 
the interruption. It’s a man I expected before; he’s 
coming downstairs. Not a word about the money while 
he’s here, Nance. He won’t stop long. Not ten min- 
utes, my dear.” 

Laying his skinny finger upon his lip, the Jew car- 
ried a candle to the door as a man’s step was heard 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


259 


upon the stairs without. He reached it at the same 
moment as the visitor, who, coming hastily into the 
room, was close upon the girl before he observed her. 

It was Monks. 

Only one of my young people,^^ said the J ew, ob- 
serving that Monks drew back on beholding a stranger. 

Don’t move, Haney.” 

The girl drew closer to the table, and, glancing at 
Monks with an air of carelessness, withdrew her eyes; 
but as he turned his toward the Jew, she stole another 
look, so keen, so searching, and full of purpose that, 
if there had been any bystander to observe the change, 
he could hardly have believed the two looks to have 
proceeded from the same person. 

Any news? ” inquired the Jew. 

Great.” 

And — and — good?” asked the Jew, hesitating as 
though he feared to vex the other man by being too 
hopeful. 

Hot bad, anyway,” replied Monks with a smile. 

Let me have a word with you.” 

The girl drew closer to the table, and made no offer 
to leave the room, although she could see that Monks 
was pointing to her. The Jew, perhaps fearing she 
might say something aloud about the money if he tried 
to get rid of her, pointed upward and took Monks out 
of the room. 

Hot that hole we were in before,” she could hear 
the man say as they went upstairs. The Jew laughed, 
and, making some reply which did not reach her, seemed 
by the creaking of the boards to lead his companion to 
the second story. 

Before the sound of their footsteps had ceased to 
echo through the house the girl had pulled off her 
shoes and stood at the door listening with breathless 


260 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


interest. The moment the noise ceased she glided from 
the room, ascended the stairs with incredible softness 
and silence, and was lost in the gloom above. 

The room remained deserted for a quarter of an 
hour or so; the girl glided back with the same unearthly 
tread, and immediately afterward the two men were 
heard descending. Monks went at once into the street, 
and the Jew crawled upstairs again for the money. 
When he returned the girl was putting on her shawl 
and bonnet, as if preparing to be gone. 

Why, Nance! exclaimed the Jew, starting back 
as he put down the candle, how pale you are! 

Pale! echoed the girl, shading her eyes with her 
hands, as if to look steadily at him. 

Quite horrible,^^ said the J ew. What have you 

been doing to yourself? 

Nothing that I know of, except sitting in this 
close place for I don’t know how long,” replied the girl 
carlessly. Come! Let me get hack.” 

WTth a sigh for every piece of money, Fagin told 
the amount into her hand. They parted without more 
conversation, merely exchanging a Good night.” 

When the girl got into the open street, she sat down 
upon a doorstep, and seemed for a few moments wholly 
bewildered and unable to pursue her way. Suddenly 
she arose, and, hurrying on in a direction quite oppo- 
site to that in which Sikes was awaiting her return, 
quickened her pace until it gradually became a violent 
run. After completely exhausting herself, she stopped 
to take breath, wrung her hands, and burst into tears. 

It might be that her tears relieved her, or that she 
felt the full hopelessness of her condition, but she 
turned back, and, hurrying with great rapidity, soon 
reached the dwelling where she had left the house- 
breaker. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


261 


If she betrayed any agitation when she presented 
herself to Mr. Sikes he did not observe it, for5 merely 
inquiring if she had brought the money, and receiving 
a reply that she had, he uttered a growl of satisfaction, 
and replacing his head upon the pillow resumed the 
slumbers which her arrival had interrupted. 

The next day the girFs excitement increased, and, 
when night came on, and she sat by watching until 
the housebreaker should drink himself asleep, there was 
an unusual paleness in her cheek and a fire in her eye 
that even Sikes observed with astonishment. 

Mr. Sikes, being weak from the fever, was lying in 
bed, and had pushed his glass toward ISTancy to be filled 
for the third or fourth time, when these symptoms first 
struck him. 

Why, burn my body! said the man, raising him- 
self on his hands as he stared the girl in the face. 

You look like a corpse come to life again. WhaFs 
the matter? 

Matter! replied the girl. Yothing. What do 
you look at me so hard for? ’’ 

I tell you what it is,^^ said Sikes; if you havenT 
caught the fever, and got it comin^ on now, there’s 
something more than usual in the wind, and something 

dangerous too. You’re not a-goin’ to Yo, you 

wouldn’t do that! ” 

Do what?” asked the girl. 

There ain’t,” said Sikes, fixing his eyes upon her 
and muttering the words to himself — there ain’t a 
stancher-hearted gal goin’. She’s got the fever cornin’ 
on, that’s it.” 

Fortifying himself with this assurance, Sikes drained 
the glass to the bottom, and then, with many grumbling 
oaths, called for his medicine. The girl jumped up, 
poured it quickly out, but with her back toward him. 


262 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


and held the glass to his lips while he drank off the 
contents. 

^^Now/^ said the robber, come and sit aside of 
me.^^ 

The girl obeyed. Sikes, locking her hand in his, 
fell back upon the pillow, and turned his eyes upon her 
face. They closed, opened again, closed once more, 
again opened. He shifted his position restlessly, and 
after dozing again and again for two or three minutes, 
and as often springing up with a look of terror, he 
was suddenly stricken into a deep and heavy sleep. 
The grasp of his hand relaxed, the upraised arm fell 
languidly by his side, and he lay like one in a profound 
trance. 

The laudanum has taken effect at last,’' murmured 
the girl, as she rose from the bedside. I may be too 
late even now.’^ 

She hastily dressed herself in her bonnet and shawl, 
looking fearfully round from time to time as if, in spite 
of the sleeping draught, she expected every moment to 
feel the pressure of Sikes’s heavy hand upon her shoul- 
der; then opening and closing the room door with noise- 
less touch, she hurried from the house. 

A watchman was crying half-past nine down a dark 
passage through which she had to pass in gaining the 
main thoroughfare. 

Has it long gone the half hour? ” asked the girl. 

It’ll strike the hour in another quarter,” said the 
man, raising his lantern to her face. 

And I can not get there in less than an hour or 
more,” muttered Haney, brushing swiftly past him and 
gliding rapidly down the street. 

She tore along the narrow pavement, elbowing the 
passengers from side to side, and, darting almost under 
the horses’ heads, crossed crowded streets where clusters 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


263 


of persons were eagerly watching their opportunity to 
do the like. 

The woman is mad! said the people, turning to 
look after her as she rushed away. 

When she reached the more wealthy quarter of the* 
town the streets were comparatively deserted, and wh6n 
she neared her place of destination she was alone. 

It was a family hotel in a quiet hut handsome street 
near Hyde Park. As the brilliant light of the lamp 
which burned before its door guided her to the spot 
the clock struck eleven. She had loitered for a few 
paces, as if irresolute, but the sound determined her, 
and she stepped into the hall. The portePs seat was 
vacant. She looked round with an air of uncertainty, 
and advanced toward the stairs. 

Now, young woman,^^ said a smartly dressed girl, 
looking out from a door behind her, who do you want 
here?^^ 

A lady who is stopping in this house,^^ answered 
the girl. 

A lady! was the reply, with a scornful look. 

What lady? 

Miss Maylie,^^ said Nancy. 

The young woman, who had by this time noted her 
appearance, replied only by a look of disdain, and sum- 
moned a man to answer her. To him Nancy repeated 
her request. 

^‘^What name am I to say?^’ asked the waiter. 

^HPs of no use saying any,^^ replied Nancy. 

^^Nor business? said the man. 

No, nor that either,^^ rejoined the girl. I must 
see the lady.^’ 

Come! said the man, pushing her toward the 
door. ^^None of this. Take yourself off.^^ 

shall be carried out if I go! said the girl vio- 


264 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


lently; and I can make that a job that two of you 
wonh like to do. IsnT there anybody here/^ she said^ 
looking rounds that will see a simple message carried 
for a poor wretch like me?^^ 

• Take it up for her^ Joe^ canT you? said a soft- 
hearted cook who was looking on. 

^‘^Well, what^s it to be?^^ said the man, with one 
foot on the stairs. 

That a young woman earnestly asks to speak to 
Miss May lie alone/’ said I^ancy, and that if the lady 
will only hear the first word she has to say she will 
know whether to hear her business or to have her turned 
out of doors as an impostor.” 

The man ran upstairs. IVancy remained, pale and 
almost breathless, listening with quivering lip to the 
very audible expressions of scorn from the housemaids, 
when the man returned and said the young woman was 
to walk upstairs. 

N^ancy followed him with trembling limbs to a small 
^techamber lighted by a lamp from the ceiling. Here 
he left her and retired. 


CHAPTEE XL. 


She raised her eyes sufficiently to observe that the 
figure which presented itself was that of a slight and 
beautiful girl, then, bending them on the ground, she 
tossed her head with affected carelessness as she said: 

IPs a hard matter to get to see you, lady. If I 
had taken offense and gone away, as many would have 
done, yoffid have been sorry for it one day, and not 
without reason either.^’ 

I am very sorry if any one has behaved harshly 
to you,’^ replied Eose. Do not think of that. Tell 
me why you wish to see me. I am the person you in- 
quired for.’^ 

The kind tone of this answer, the sweet voice, the 
gentle manner, the absence of any accent of haughti- 
ness or displeasure, took the girl completely by surprise, 
and she burst into tears. 

Oh, lady, lady! ’’ she said, clasping her hands pas- 
sionately before her face, if there was more like you 
there would be fewer like me; there would — there 
would! 

Sit down/’ said Eose earnestly. If you are in 
poverty or affliction, I shall be truly glad to relieve you 
if I can — I shall, indeed. Sit down.” 

Let me stand, lady,” said the girl, still weeping, 
and do not speak to me so kindly till you know me 
better. It is growing late. Is — ^is that door shut?” 

265 


266 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Yes/^ said Rose^ recoiling a few steps^ as if to be 
nearer assistance in case she should require it. Why ? 

Because/^ said the girl^ I am about to put my 
life and the lives of others in your hands. I am the 
girl that dragged little Oliver back to old Fagin^s on the 
night he went out from the house in Pentonville.^^ 
^^You!^^ said Rose May lie. 

I^ lady! replied the girl. I am the creature 
you have heard of^ that lives among the thieves^ and 
that never^ from the first moment I can recollect my 
eyes and senses opening on London streets^, have known 
any better life or kinder words than they have given 
me. Thank Heaven upon your knees^ dear lady/^ cried 
the girl^ that you had friends to care for and keep ^ 
you in your childhood.^^ 

pity you! said Rose in a broken voice. It 
Avrings my heart to hear you! 

Heaven bless you for your goodness! rejoined the 
girl. I have stolen away from those who would surely 
murder me if they knew I had been here to tell you 
what I have overheard. Do you know a man named 
Monks? 

Ho/^ said Rose. 

He knows you/^ replied the girl, and knew you 
were here, for it was by hearing him tell the place that 
I found you out.^^ 

I never heard the name,^^ said Rose. 

Then he goes by some other among us,^^ rejoined 
the girl, AA^hich I more than thought before. Some 
time ago, and soon after Oliver Avas put into your house 
on the night of the robbery, I, suspecting this man, 
listened to a conversation held between him and Fagin 
in the dark. . I found out from what I heard that 

Monks, the man I asked you about, you know ” 

said Rose, I understand.” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


267 


That Monks/^ pursued the girl, had seen him 
accidentally with two of our boys on the day we first 
lost him, and had known him directly to he the same 
child that he was watching for, though I couldnT make 
out why. A bargain was struck with Fagin that if 
Oliver was got back he should have a certain sum, and 
he was to have more for making him a thief, which 
this Monks wanted for some purpose of his own.^^ 

For what purpose ? asked Rose. 

He caught sight of my shadow on the wall as I 
listened in the hope of finding out,^^ said the girl, and 
there are not many people beside me that could have 
got out of their way in time to escape discovery. But 
I did, and I saw him no more till last night.’^ 

And what occurred then ? 

Ifil tell you, lady. Last night he came again. 
Again they went upstairs, and I, wrapping myself up 
so that my shadow should not betray me, again listened 
at the door. The first words I heard Monks say were 
these: ^ So the only proofs of the boy^s identity lie in 
the bottom of the river, and the old hag that received 
them from the mother is in her coffin.’ They laughed 
and talked of his success in doing this, and Monks, talk- 
ing on about the boy, and getting very wild, said that 
though he had got the young fellow’s money safely 
now, he’d rather have had it the other way, for what 
a game it would have been to have brought down the 
boast of the father’s will by driving him through every 
jail in town and then hauling him up for some capital 
felony which Fagin could easily manage, after having 
made a good profit of him besides! ” 

^^What is all this?” said Rose. 

The truth, lady, though it comes from my lips,” 
replied the girl. Then he said that if he could gratify 
his hatred by taking the boy’s life without bringing his 


268 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


own neck in danger^ he would; bnt^ as he couldn% he^d 
be upon the watch to meet him at every turn in life, 
and if he took advantage of his birth and history he 
might harm him yet. In short, Fagin,^ he says, ^ Jew 
as yon are, yon never laid snch snares as Fll contrive 
for my yonng brother Oliver! ^ 

His brother! exclaimed Rose. 

These were his words,^^ said Haney. And more. 
"When he spoke of yon and the other lady, and said it 
seemed contrived by Heaven against him that Oliver 
should come into your hands, he laughed, and said 
there was some comfort in that too, for how many 
thousands and hundreds of thousands of pounds would 
you not give if you had them to know who your two- 
legged spaniel was.^^ 

V Y^ou do not mean,^^ said Rose, turning very pale, 
to tell me that this was said in earnest ? 

He spoke in hard and angry earnest if a man ever 
did,’^ replied the girl, shaking her head. He is an 
earnest man when his hatred is up. I know many who do 
worse things, hut I’d rather listen to them all a dozen 
times than to that Monks once. It is growing late, and 
I have to reach home without suspicion of having been 
on such an errand as this. I must get hack quietly.” 

But what can I do ? ” said Rose. To what use 
can I turn this communication without you? Back! 
Why do you wish to return to companions you paint in 
such terrible colors? If you repeat this information to 
persons whom I can summon in an instant from the 
next room, you will be consigned to some place of 
safety without half an hour’s delay.” 

I wish to go back,” said the girl. I must go 
back, because — ^because among the men I have told you 
of there is one — the most desperate among them all — 
that I can’t leave.” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


269 


Your having interfered in this dear boy^s behalf 
before/^ said Rose^ your coming here at so great a 
risk to tell me what you have heard^ your manner^ which 
convinces me of the truth of what you say^ all lead 
me to believe that you might be yet saved. Do hear 
my words^ and let me save you yet for better things.^^ 
Lady/^ cried the girl^ sinking on her knees, it is 
too late! 

What am I to do ? said Rose. 1 should not let 
you depart from me thus.^^ 

You should, lady, and I know you will,^^ rejoined 
the girl, rising. You will not stop my going, because 
I have trusted in your goodness, and forced no promise 
from you as I might have done.^^ 

Of what use, then, is the communication you have 
made?^^ said Rose. This mystery must be investi- 
gated, or how will its disclosure to me benefit Oliver, 
whom you are anxious to serve ? 

You must have some kind gentleman about you 
that will hear it as a secret and advise you what to do,^^ 
rejoined the girl. 

But where can I find you again when it is neces- 
sary?^^ asked Rose. I do not seek to know where 
those dreadful people live, but. where will you be 
walking or passing at any settled period from this 
time? 

Will you promise me that you will have my secret 
strictly kept, and come alone or with the only other 
person who knows it, and that I shall not be watched 
or followed? asked the girl. 

I promise you solemnly, said Rose. 

Every Sunday night from eleven till the clock 
strikes twelve, said the girl without hesitation, I will 
walk on London Bridge, if I am alive.^’ 

You wilV^ said Rose, after a pause, take some 


270 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


money from me, which may enable you to live without 
dishonesty — at all events, until we meet again ? 

N’ot a penny,’^ replied the girl, waving her hand. 

Do not close your heart against all my efforts to 
help you,^’ said Eose, stepping gently forward. I wish 
to serve you, indeed.^^ 

You would serve me best, lady,’^ replied the girl, 
wringing her hands, ^^if you would take my life at 
once.^^ 

Thus speaking and sobbing aloud, the unhappy crea- 
ture turned away. 


CHAPTER XLI. 


Rose’s situation was, indeed, one of no common 
trial. While she felt the most eager and burning 
desire to penetrate the mystery in which Oliver’s his- 
tory was enveloped, she could not but hold sacred the 
confidence which the miserable woman with whom she 
had just conversed had placed in her, as a young and 
guileless girl. 

She had proposed remaining in London only three 
days before departing for some weeks to a distant part 
of the coast. It was now midnight of the first day; 
how could she postpone the journey without exciting 
suspicion? 

Once the thought occurred to her of seeking assist- 
ance from Harry; hut this awakened the recollection 
of their last parting, and it seemed unworthy of her 
to call him hack when he might have by this time 
learned to forget her and to be happier away. 

After more communing with herself next day, she 
arrived at the desperate conclusion that to consult him 
was her wisest plan, after all. 

She had taken up the same pen and laid it down 
again fifty times, and had considered and reconsidered 
the first line of her letter without writing the first word, 
when Oliver, who had been walking in the street with 
Mr. Giles for a body guard, entered the room in such 
19 271 


272 


THE STOHY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


breathless haste and violent agitation as seemed to be- 
token some new cause for alarm. 

What makes you look so flurried? asked Hose, 
advancing to meet him. 

I hardly know; I feel as if I should be choked/’ 
replied the boy. Oh^ dear! to think that I should see 
him at last, and you should all be able to know that I 
have told you the truth! ” 

I never thought you had told us anything but the 
truth/’ said Eose,. soothing him. But what is this? 
Of whom do you speak? ” 

I have seen the gentleman/’ replied Oliver, scarce- 
ly able to articulate, the gentleman who was so good 
to me^ — Mr. Brownlow, that we have so often talked 
about.” 

Where?” asked Eose. 

Getting out of a coach,” replied Oliver, shedding 
tears of delight, and going into a house. I didn’t 
speak to him — I couldn’t speak to him, for he didn’t 
see me, and I trembled so that I was not able to get up 
to him. But Giles asked for me whether he lived there, 
and they said he did. Look here,” said Oliver, opening 
a scrap of paper; here it is; here’s where he lives — 
I’m going there directly! Oh, dear me, dear me! What 
shall I do when I see him and hear him speak again ? ” 

Quick! ” she said. Tell them to fetch a hackney 
coach, and be ready to go with me. I will take you 
there directly, without a minute’s loss of time. I will 
only tell my aunt that we are going out for an hour, 
and will be ready as soon as you are.” 

When they arrived at the house Eose left Oliver in 
the coach, under pretense of preparing the old gentle- 
man to receive him, and, sending up her card by the 
servant, requested to see Mr. Brownlow on very press- 
ing business. The servant soon returned to beg that 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


273 


she would walk upstairs, and, following him into an 
upper room. Miss Maylie was presented to an elderly 
gentleman of benevolent appearance in a bottle-green 
coat, at no great distance from whom was seated an- 
other old gentleman in nankeen breeches and gaiters, 
and who did not look particularly benevolent, and who 
was sitting with his hands clasped on the top of a thick 
stick and his chin propped thereupon. 

Dear me! said the gentleman in the bottle-green 
coat, hastily rising with great politeness, I beg your 
pardon, young lady — I imagined it was some trouble- 
some person who — I beg you will excuse me. Be seated, 
pray.” 

Mr. Brownlow, I believe, sir? said Rose, glancing 
from the other gentleman to the one who had spoken. 

That is my name,^^ said the old gentleman. This 
is my friend, Mr. Grimwig. Grimwig, will you leave us 
for a few minutes ? 

I believe,^^ interposed Miss Maylie, that at this 
period of our interview I need not give this gentleman 
the trouble of going away. If I am correctly informed, 
he already knows something of the business on which 
I wish to speak to you.^^ 

Mr. Brownlow inclined his head. Mr. Grimwig, 
who had made one very stiff bow and risen from his 
chair, made another very stiff bow, and dropped into it 
again. 

I shall surprise you very much, I have no doubt,^^ 
said Rose, naturally embarrassed, but you once showed 
great benevolence and goodness to a very dear young 
friend of mine, and I am sure you will take an interest 
in hearing of him again.^^ 

Indeed! said Mr. Brownlow. May I ask his 
name? 

Oliver Twist,^^ replied Rose. 


274 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


The words no sooner escaped her lips than Mr. 
Grimwig^ who had been affecting to dip into a large 
book that lay on the table^ npset it with a great crash, 
and emitted a long, deep whistle. 

Mr. Brownlow was no less surprised. He drew the 
chair nearer to Miss Mayhems, and said: 

Do me the favor, my dear young lady, to leave en- 
tirely out of the question the goodness and benevolence 
of which you speak, and of which nobody else knows 
anything, and if you have it in your power to produce 
any evidence which will alter the unfavorable opinion 
I was once induced to entertain of that poor child, in 
Heaven’s name put me in possession of it.” 

A bad one! I’ll eat my head if he is not a bad 
one! ” growled Mr. Grim wig. 

He is a child of a noble nature and a warm heart,” 
said Rose, coloring. 

Miss Maylie,” said Mr. Brownlow, will you let 
me know what intelligence you have of this poor child? ” 

Rose, who had had time to collect her thoughts, at 
once related in a few natural words all that had be- 
fallen Oliver since he left Mr. Brownlow’s house, re- 
serving Haney’s information for that gentleman’s pri- 
vate ear, and concluding with the assurance that his 
only sorrow for some months past had been the not 
being able, to meet with his former benefactor and 
friend. 

Thank God!” said the old gentleman. This is 
great happiness to me, great happiness. But you have 
not told me where he is now, Miss Maylie. Y^ou must 
pardon my finding fault with you, but why not have 
brought him?” 

He is waiting in a coach at the door,” replied 

Rose. 

^^At this door!” cried the old gentleman. With 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


275 


which he hurried out of the room^ down the stairs, up the 
coach steps, and into the coach without another word. 

Soon Mr. Brownlow returned accompanied by Oli- 
ver, whom Mr. Grimwig received very graciously. 

There is somebody else who should not be for- 
gotten, by the bye,^^ said Mr. Brownlow, ringing the 
bell. Send Mrs. Bedwin here, if you please.^’ 

The old housekeeper answered the summons with 
all dispatch, and dropping a courtesy at the door waited 
for orders. 

Why, you get blinder every day, Bedwin,^^ said 
Mr. Brownlow, rather testily. 

Well, that I do, sir,^^ replied the old lady. Peo- 
ple's eyes at my time of life donT improve with age, 
sir.^^ 

I could have told you that/’ rejoined Mr. Brown- 
low; but put on your glasses, and see if you canT 
find out what you were wanted for, will you ? 

The old lady began to fummage in her pocket for 
her spectacles. But Oliver’s patience was not proof 
against this new trial, and, yielding to his first impulse, 
he sprang into her arms. 

God be good to me! ” cried the old lady, embrac- 
ing him; it is my innocent boy! ” 

My dear old nurse ! ” cried Oliver. 

He would come back, I knew he would,” said 
the old lady, holding him in her arms. How well he 
looks, and how like a gentleman’s son he is dressed 
again! Where have you been this long, long while? 
Ah! the same sweet face, but not so pale; the same 
soft eye, but not so sad! ” Punning on thus, and now 
holding Oliver from her to mark how he had grown, 
now clasping him to her and passing her fingers fondly 
through his hair, the good soul laughed and wept upon 
his neck by turns. 


276 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Leaving her and Oliver to compare notes at leisure, 
Mr. Brownlow led the way into another room, and there 
heard from Rose a full narration of her interview with 
I7ancy, which occasioned him no little surprise and 
perplexity. Rose explained that she had not made a 
confidant of her friend Dr. Losberne in the first in- 
stance because she feared that excellent gentleman^s 
impetuosity, and foresaw clearly the explosion of in- 
dignation with which he would hear the secret. Mr. 
Brownlow considered that she had acted prudently, 
and readily undertook to hold solemn conference wdth 
the worthy doctor himself. It was therefore arranged 
that he should call at the hotel at eight o’clock that 
evening, and that in the meantime Mrs. Maylie should^ 
be cautiously informed of all that had occurred. These 
plans being agreed upon. Rose and Oliver returned 
home. 

Rose had by no means overrated the measure of the 
good doctor’s wrath, fancy’s history was no sooner 
unfolded to him than he poured forth a shower of min- 
gled threats and execrations. 

What the devil is to be done ? ” said the impetu- 
ous doctor when they had rejoined the two ladies. 

Are we to pass a vote of thanks to all these vaga- 
bonds, male and female, and beg them to accept a 
hundred pounds or so apiece as a trifling mark of our 
esteem and some slight acknowledgment of their kind- 
ness to Oliver? ” 

'Not exactly that,” rejoined Mr. Brownlow, laugh- 
ing, but we must proceed gently and with great care.” 

Gentleness and care! ” exclaimed the doctor. I’d 
send them, one and all, to ” 

N’ever mind where,” interposed Mr. Brownlow. 
^^But reflect whether sending them anywhere is likely 
to attain the object we have in view.” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


277 


What object? said the doctor. 

Simply the discovery of Olivers parentage, and 
regaining for him the inheritance of which, if this 
story be true, he has been fraudulently deprived.^^ 

Ah! said Mr. Losberne, cooling himself with his 
pocket handkerchief; I almost forgot that.’^ 

You see,^^ pursued Mr. Brownlow, placing this 
girl entirely out of the question, and supposing it were 
possible to bring these scoundrels to justice without 
compromising her safety, what good should we bring 
about? 

Hanging a few of them, at least, in all probabil- 
ity,^^ suggested the doctor, and transporting the rest.^’ 

Very good,^^ replied Mr. Brownlow, smiling; but 
no doubt they will bring that about for themselves in 
the fullness of time.^^ 

Although Mr. Losberne received with many wry 
faces a proposal to wait five whole days, he was fain 
to admit that no better course occurred to him just 
then, and, as both Rose and Mrs. Maylie sided with 
Mr. Brownlow, that gentleman^s proposition was car- 
ried unanimously. 

I should like,’’ he said, to call in the aid of my 
friend Grimwig. He is a strange creature, but a shrewd 
one, and might prove of material assistance to us; I 
should say that he was bred a lawyer, and' quitted the 
bar in disgust because he had only one brief and a 
motion, of course, in twenty years, though whether that 
is a recommendation or not you must determine for 
yourselves.” 

have no objection to calling in your friend if I 
may call in mine,” said the doctor. 

We must put it to the vote,” said Mr. Brownlow. 

Who may he be? ” 

That lady’s son and this young lady’s — ^ver}^ old 


278 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


friend/^ said the doctor^ motioning toward Mrs. Maylie, 
and concluding with an expressive glance at her niece. 

Rose blushed deeply, but she did not make any audi- 
ble objection to this motion (possibly she felt in a hope- 
less minority), and Harry Maylie and Mr. Grimwig 
were accordingly added to the committee. 

stay in town, of course,^^ said Mrs. Maylie, 
while there remains the slightest prospect of prose- 
cuting this inquiry with a chance of success.^^ 

Good! rejoined Mr. Brownlow. Come! Sup- 
per has been announced, and young Oliver, who is all 
alone in the next room, will have begun to think by 
this time that we have wearied of his company and en- 
tered into some dark conspiracy to thrust him forth 
upon the world.^^ 

With these words the old gentleman gave his hand 
to Mrs. Maylie and escorted her into the supper room. 
Mr. Losberne followed, leading Rose, and the council 
was for the present effectually broken up. 


CHAPTER XLII. 

Upon the night when Haney, having lulled Mr. 
Sikes to sleep, hurried on her self-imposed mission to 
Rose Maylie, there advanced to London by the Great 
Horth Road two persons upon whom it is necessary 
that this history should bestow some attention. 

They were a man and a woman; the former was one 
of the long-limbed, knock-kneed, shambling, bony peo- 
ple to whom it is difficult to assign any precise age. 
The woman was young, but of a robust and hardy make, 
as she need have been to bear the weight of the heavy 
bundle which was strapped to her back. 

Thus they had toiled along the dusty road, taking 
little heed of any object within sight until they passed 
through Highgate archway, when the foremost traveler 
stopped and called impatiently to his companion. 

Come on, canT yer? What a lazvbones yer are, 
Charlotte! 

IPs a heavy load, I can tell you,’^ said the female, 
coming up, almost breathless with fatigue. 

Heavy! What are yer talking about? What are 
yer made for? rejoined the male traveler, changing 
his own little bundle as he spoke to the other shoulder. 

Oh, there yer are, resting again! Well, if yer ain’t 
enough to tire anybody’s patience out, I don’t know 
what is! ” 


279 


280 


THE STOHY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Is it much farther? asked the woman, resting 
herself against a bank, and looking up with the per- 
spiration streaming from her face. 

Much farther! Yer as good as there,’^ said the 
long-legged tramper, pointing out before him. Look 
there! Those are the lights of London.^^ 

Theyhe a good two mile off, at least,^^ said the 
woman despondingly. 

Yever mind whether they Ye two mile off or twen- 
ty,^^ said Yoah Claypole, for he it was. 

Where do you mean to stop for the night, Yoah? ’’ 

How should I know?^^ replied Yoah, whose tem- 
per had been considerably impaired by walking. 

Year, I hope,^^ said Charlotte. 

Yo, not near,^’ replied Mr. Claypole. There! 
Yot near, so don’t think it.” 

^^Why not?” 

When I tell yer that I don’t mean to do a thing, 
that’s enough, without any why or because either,” 
replied Mr. Claypole with dignity. 

Well, you needn’t be so cross,” said his com- 
panion. 

A pretty thing it would be, wouldn’t it, to go and 
stop at the very first public house outside the town, so 
that Sowerberry, if he came up after us, might poke 
in his old nose and have us taken back in a cart with 
handcuffs on,” said Mr. Claypole in a jeering tone. 

I know I ain’t as cunning as you are,” replied 
Charlotte; ^^but don’t put all the blame on me, and 
say I should have been locked up. Y^ou would have 
been if I had been, anyway.” 

Yer took the money from the till, yer know yer 
did,” said Mr. Claypole. 

I took it for you, Yoah dear,” rejoined Char- 
lotte. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


281 


‘^Did I keep it?'"’ asked Mr. Claypole. 

“No; you trusted it to me^ and let me carry it, like 
a dear.^’ 

Through the streets of London "^Noah Claypole 
walked, dragging Charlotte after him. At length he 
stopped in front of an humble public house in appear- 
ance, and more dirty than any he had yet seen, and, 
having crossed over and surveyed it from the opposite 
pavement, graciously announced his intention of put- 
ting up for the night. 

“ So give us the bundle,^’ said Noah, unstrapping it 
from the woman’s shoulders and slinging it over his 
own, “ and don’t yer speak except when yer spoke to. 
What’s the name of the house — T-h-r, Three what? ” 

“ Cripples,” said Charlotte. 

“ Three Cripples,” repeated Noah, “ and a very 
good sign too. Now, then! Keep close at my heels, 
and come along.” 

There was nobody in the bar but a young J ew, who, 
with two elbows on the counter, was reading a very dirty 
newspaper. He stared very, hard at Noah, and Noah 
stared very hard at him. 

“Is this the Three Cripples?” asked Noah. 

“ That is the dabe of the ’ouse,” replied the J ew. 

“ A gentleman we met on the road coming up from 
the country recommended .us here,” said Noah, nudg- 
ing Charlotte. “ We want to stay here to-night.” 

“ I’d dot certaid you cad,” said Barney, “ but I’ll 
idquire.”- 

“ Show us the tap, and give us a bit of cold meat 
and a drop of beer while yer inquiring, will yer? ” said 
Noah. 

Barney complied by ushering them into a small 
back room, and setting the required viands before them; 
having done which, he informed the travelers that they 


282 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


could be lodged that nighty, and left the amiable couple 
to their refreshment. 

When Fagin^ in the course of his evening^s business, 
came into the bar to inquire after some of his young 
pupils, Hush! said Barney; strangers id the next 
roob.^^ 

Strangers! repeated the old man in a whisper. 

^^Ah! Ad rub uds too, added Barney. Froo 
the cuttry, but subthig in your way or I^d bistaked.^^ 

Fagin appeared to receive this communication with 
great interest. Mounting a stool, he cautiously applied 
his eye to the pane of glass, from which secret post he 
could see Mr. Claypole taking cold beef from the dish 
and porter from the pot, and administering homoeo- 
pathic doses of both to Charlotte, who sat patiently by, 
eating and drinking at his pleasure. 

^^Aha!’^ he whispered, looking round to Barney; 

I like that fellow’s looks, tie’d be of use to us; he 
knows how to train the girl already. Don’t make as 
much noise as a mouse, my dear, and let me hear ’em 
talk — let me hear ’em.” 

So I mean to be a gentleman,” said Mr. Clay- 
pole. Ho more jolly old coffins, Charlotte, but a gen- 
Heman’s life for me, and, if you like, yer shall be a 
lady.” 

I should like that well enough, dear,” replied 
Charlotte; but tills ain’t to be emptied every day, and 
people to get clear off after it.” 

Tills be blowed! ” said Mr. Claypole; there’s 
more things besides tills to be emptied.” 

^^What do you mean?” asked his companion. 

Pockets, woman’s ridicules, houses, mail coaches, 
banks ! ” said Mr. Claypole, rising with the porter. 

But you can’t do all that, dear,” said Charlotte. 

I shall look out to get into company with them 





THE STOEY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


283 


as can/^ replied JVoah. TheyTl be able to make us use- 
ful some way or another. Why, you yourself are worth 
fifty women; I never see such a precious sly and de- 
ceitful creetur as yer can be when I let yer.^^ 

Lor’, how nice it is to hear you say so ! ” exclaimed 
Charlotte. 

I should like to be the captain of some band, and 
have the whooping of ’em and follering ’em about, un- 
beknown to themselves. That would suit me if there 
was good profit; and if we could only get in with some 
gentleman of this sort, I say it would be cheap at that 
twenty-pound note you’ve got, especially as we don’t 
very well know how to get rid of it ourselves.” 

After expressing this opinion, Mr. Claypole looked 
into the porter pot with an aspect of deep wisdom, and, 
having well shaken its contents, nodded condescend- 
ingly to Charlotte and took a draught, wherewith he 
appeared greatly refreshed. He was meditating another 
when the sudden opening of the door and the appear- 
ance of a stranger interrupted him. 

The stranger was Mr. Fagin. And very amiable he 
looked, and a very low bow he made as he advanced, 
and, sitting himself down at the nearest table, ordered 
something to drink of the grinning Barney. 

A pleasant night, sir, but cool for the time of 
year,” said Fagin, rubbing his hands. From the coun- 
try, I see, sir.” 

How do yer see that? ” asked' Hoah Claypole. 

We have not so much dust as that in London,” 
replied Fagin, pointing from Hoah’s shoes to those of 
his companion’s, and from them to the two bundles. 

^^Yer a sharp feller,” said Hoah. ^^Ha! ha! only 
hear that, Charlotte! ” 

^^Why, one need be sharp in this town, my dear,” 
replied the Jew, and that’s the truth. Dear! ” said 


284 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Fagin. A man need be always emptying a till, or a 
pocket, or a woman’s reticule, or a house, or a mail 
coach, or a bank if he lives at all.” 

Mr. Claypole no sooner heard this extract from his 
own remarks than he fell back in his chair, and looked 
from the Jew to Charlotte with a countenance of ashy 
paleness and expressive terror. 

Don’t mind me, my dear,” said Fagin, drawing his 
chair closer. Ha! ha! it was lucky that it was only 
me that heard you by chance. It was very lucky it was 
only me.” 

I didn’t take it,” stammered Noah, no longer 
stretching out his legs like an independent gentleman, 
but coiling them up as w^ell as he could under his chair; 

it was all her doing; yer’ve got it now, Charlotte, yer 
know yer have.” 

Ho matter who’s got it or who did it, my dear,” 
replied Fagin, glancing, nevertheless, with a hawk’s eye 
at the girl aujd the two bundles. I’m in that way 
myself, and I like you for it.” 

In what way? ” asked Mr. Claypole, a little re- 
covering. 

In that way of business,” rejoined Fagin; and so 
are the people of the house. Y^ou’ve hit the right nail 
upon the head, and are as safe here as you can be. 
There is not a safer place in all this town than is the 
Cripples — that is, w^hen I like to make it so. And I 
have taken a fancy to you and the young woman; so 
I’ve said the word, and you may make your minds 
easy.” 

Hoah Cla^^pole’s mind might have been at ease after 
this assurance, but his body certainly was not. 

^H’ll tell you more,” said Fagin, after he had re- 
assured the girl by dint of friendly nods and muttered 
encouragements. I have got a friend that I think can 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


285 


gratify your darling wish^ and put you in the right way^ 
where you can take whatever department of the business 
you think will suit you best at firsts and be taught all 
the others.^^ 

Yer speak as if yer were in earnest/^ replied 
Noah. 

What advantage would it be to me to be anything 
else? inquired Fagin, shrugging his shoulders. Here! 
let me have a word with you outside.^^ 

There^s no occasion to trouble ourselves to move/^ 
said Noah^ getting his legs by gradual degrees broader 
again. SheTl take the luggage upstairs the while. 
Charlotte, see to them bundles! 

Noah held the door open and watched her out. 

She’s kept tolerably well under, ain’t she ? ” he 
asked, as he resumed his seat, in the tone of a keeper 
who had tamed some wild animal. 

Quite perfect,” rejoined Fagin, clapping him on 
the shoulder. You’re a genius, my dear.” 

Why, I suppose if I wasn’t I shouldn’t be here,” 
replied Noah. But, I say, she’ll be back if yer lose 
time.” 

^^Now, what do you think?” said Fagin. ^Hf you 
was to like my friend, could you do better than join 
him?” 

Is he in a good way of business, that’s where it 
is,” responded Noah, winking one of his little eyes. 

The top of the tree; employs a power of hands; 
has the very best society in the profession.” 

Regular town maders? ” asked Mr. Claypole. 

^^Not a countryman among ’em; and I don’t think 
he’d take you, even on my recommendation, if he didn’t 
run rather short of assistants just now,” rejoined Fagin. 

Should I have to hand over?” said Noah, slap- 
ping his breeches pocket. 


286 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


It couldn^t possibly be done without/’ replied 
Fagin in a most decided manner. 

Twenty pounds^ though; it’s a lot of money! ” 

ISTot when it’s in a note you can’t get rid of/’ re- 
torted Fagin. Number and date taken, I suppose? 
Payment stopped at the bank? Ah! It’s not worth 
much to him. It’ll have to go abroad, and he couldn’t 
sell it for a great deal in the market.” 

When could I see him?” asked Noah doubtfully. 

To-morrow morning.” 

Where? ” 

Here.” 

Urn! ” said Noah. What’s the wages? ” 

^^Live like a gentleman — board and lodging, pipes 
and spirits free, half of all you earn, and half of all the 
young woman earns,” replied Fagin. 

But, you see,” observed Noah, as she will be 
able to do a great deal, I should like to take something 
very light.” 

A little fancy work?” suggested Fagin. 

Ah! something of that sort,” replied Noah. 
^^What do you think would suit me, now? Something 
not too trying for the strength and not very dangerous, 
you know. That’s the sort of thing! ” 

I heard you talk of something in the spy way upon 
the others, my dear,” said Fagin. ^^My friend wants 
somebody who would do that well very much.” 

^^Why, I did mention that, and I shouldn’t mind 
turning my hand to it sometimes,” rejoined Mr. Clay- 
pole slowly. But it wouldn’t pay by itself, you 
know.” 

That’s true,” observed the Jew. ^^No, it might 

not.” 

^^What do you think, then?” asked Noah, anxious- 
ly regarding him. Something in the sneaking way. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 287 

where it was pretty sure work and not much more risk 
than being at home/^ 

^^What do you think of the old ladies? asked Fa- 
gin. There^s a good deal of money made in snatching 
their bags and parcels and running round the corner.^^ 

Don’t they holler out a good deal and scratch 
sometimes?” asked Noah^ shaking his head. don’t 
think that would answer my purpose. Ain’t there any 
other line open ? ” 

^^Stop!” said Fagin, laying his hand on Noah’s 
knee. The kinchin lay.” 

What’s that ? ” demanded Mr. Claypole. 

The kinchins^ my dear/’ said Fagin, is the young 
children that’s sent on errands by their mothers with 
sixpences and shillings, and the lay is just to take their 
money away — they’ve always got it ready in their hands 
— then knock ’em into the kennel, and walk off very 
slow, as if there was nothing else the matter but a child 
fallen down and hurt itself. Ha! ha! ha! ” 

^^Ha! ha!” roared Mr. Claypole, kicking up his 
legs in an ecstasy. Lord, that’s the very thing.” 

To he sure it is,” replied Fagin; and you can 
have a few good heats chalked out in Camden Town 
and Battle Bridge and neighborhoods like that, where 
they’re always going errands, and you can upset as 
many kinchins as you want any hour in the day. Ha! 
ha! ha!” 

With this Fagin poked Mr. Claypole in the side, and 
they joined in a hurst of laughter both long and loud. 

Well, that’s all right!” said Noah when he had 
recovered himself and Charlotte had returned. What 
time to-morrow shall we say?” 

^^Will ten do?” asked Fagin, adding, as Mr. Clay- 
pole nodded assent, What name shall I tell my good 
friend? ” 


20 


288 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Mr. Bolter/’ replied Noah, who had prepared him- 
' self for such an emergency. Morris Bolter. This is 
Mrs. Bolter.” 

Mrs. Bolter’s humble servant,” said Fagin, bowing 
with grotesque politeness. I hope I shall know her 
better very shortly.” 

Do you hear the gentleman, Charlotte? ” thun- 
dered Mr. Claypole. 

Yes, Noah, dear! ” responded Mrs. Bolter, extend- 
ing her hand. 

She calls me Noah as a sort of fond way of talk- 
ing,” said Mr. Morris Bolter, late Claypole, turning to 
Fagin. ^^You understand?” 

Oh, yes, I understand perfectly,” replied Fagin, 
telling the truth for once. Good night! Good 
night! ” 


CHAPTEE XLIII. 


Adept as she was in all the arts of cunning and dis- 
simulation, the girl Xancy could not wholly conceal the 
effect which the knowledge of the step she had taken 
wrought upon her mind. She grew pale and thin even 
within a few days. At times she took no heed of what 
was passing before her or no part in conversations where 
once she would have been the loudest. At other times 
she laughed without merriment, and was noisy without 
cause or meaning. At others — often within a moment 
afterward — she sat silent and dejected, brooding with 
her head upon her hands. 

It was Sunday night, and the hell of the nearest 
church struck the hour. Sikes and the Jew were talk- 
ing, hut they paused to listen. The girl looked up 
from the low seat on which she crouched and listened, 
too. Eleven. 

An hour this side of midnight,” said Sikes, rais- 
ing the blind to look out and returning to his seat. 

Dark and heavy it is, too. A good night for busi- 
ness this.” 

^^Ah!” replied Fagin. ^^What a pity. Bill, my 
dear, that there’s none quite ready to be done.” 

You’re right for once,” replied Sikes gruffly. It 
is a pity, for I’m in the humor, too.” 

Xance had risen and put on her bonnet. 

289 


290 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Halloo! cried Sikes. Nance! Where’s the gal 
going to at this time of night? ” 

Not far.” 

What answer’s that ? ” returned Sikes. Where 
are you going? ” 

I say not far.” 

^^And I say where?” retorted Sikes. Do you 
hear me ? ” 

I don’t know where/’ replied the girl. 

Then I do/’ said Sikes. Nowhere. Sit down.” 

I’m not well. I told you that before/’ rejoined 
the girl. I want a breath of fresh air.” 

Put your head out of the winder/’ replied Sikes. 

There’s not enough there/’ said the girl. I want 
it in the street.” 

Then you won’t have it/’ replied Sikes. With 
which assurance he rose^ locked the door^ took the key 
out^ and pulling her bonnet from her head flung it up 
to the top of an old press. 

There!” said the robber. ^^Now stop quietly 
where you are, will you ? ” 

It’s not such a matter as a bonnet would keep 
me/’ said the girl, turning very pale. What do you 
mean. Bill? Do you know what you’re doing?” 

Make up your mind that you can not leave this 
house to-night.” 

And Nancy saw that it would be useless to try to go. 


CHAPTEE XLIV. 


Eagin was up early next morning, and waited im- 
patiently for the appearance of his new partner, who, 
after a delay that seemed interminable, at length pre- 
sented himself as agreed upon at their last meeting, and 
commenced a voracious assault on the breakfast. Char- 
lotte had arrived at least two hours before. 

Bolter,^^ said the Jew, drawing up a chair and 
seating himself opposite Morris Bolter. 

Well, here I am,^^ returned Xoah. WhaPs the 
matter? Don’t yer ask me to do anything till I have 
done eating.” 

You can talk as you eat, can’t you?” said Fagin, 
cursing his dear young friend’s greediness from the very 
bottom of his heart. 

Oh, yes, I can talk; I get on better when I talk,” 
said ISToah, cutting a monstrous slice of bread. WhePs 
Charlotte ? ” 

Out,” said Fagin. I sent her out this morning 
with the other young woman, because I wanted us to 
be alone.” 

Oh! ” said Xoah. wish yer’d ordered her to 
make some buttered toast first. Well. Talk away. Yer 
won’t interrupt me.” 

There seemed, indeed, no great fear of anything in- 
terrupting him, as he had evidently sat down with a 
determination to do a great deal of business. 

291 


292 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


You did well yesterday, my dear/’ said the Jew. 
^^Beautifully! Six shillings and ninepence on the very 
first day! ” 

Pretty well, I think, for a beginner,” remarked 
Bolter complacently, and took a series of large bites, 
which finished his first hunk of bread and butter, and 
assisted himself to a second. 

I want you. Bolter,” said Fagin, leaning over the 
table, to do a piece of work for me that needs great 
care and caution.” 

I say,” rejoined Bolter, don’t yer go shoving me 
into danger or sending me to any o’ yer perlice offices. 
That don’t suit me, that don’t, and so I tell yer.” 

There’s not the smallest danger in it, not the very 
smallest,” said the Jew; ^ffit’s only to dodge a woman.” 

An old woman ? ” demanded Bolter. 

A young one,” replied Fagin. 

I can do that pretty well, I know,” said Bolter. 

I was a regular cunning sneak when I was at school. 
What am I to dodge her for?” 

Not to do anything,” interrupted the Jew, ^^hut 
to tell me where she goes, who she sees, and if possible 
what she says; to remember the street, if it is a street, 
or a house, if it is a house; and to bring me hack all 
the information you. can.” 

What’ll yer give me?” asked Noah, setting down 
his cup and looking at his employer eagerly in the 
face. 

If you do it well, a pound, my dear. One pound,” 
said Fagin, wishing to interest him in the scent as much 
as possible. And that’s what I never gave yet for any 
job of work where there wasn’t valuable consideration 
to be gained.” 

^^Who is she?” inquired Noah. 

One of us.” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


293 


0 Lor’! ” cried ]Voah, curling up his nose. Yer 
doubtful of her^ are yer?” 

She has found out some new friendS;, my dear, and 
I must know who they are,” replied the Jew. 

1 see,” said Noah. Just to have the pleasure of 
knowing them if they’re respectable people, eh? Ha! 
ha! I’m your man.” 

I knew you would he,” cried Fagin, delighted at 
the success of his proposal. 

Of course, of course,” replied Yoah. Where is 
she? Where am I to wait for her? Where am I to 
go?” 

^^All that, my dear, you shall hear from me. I’ll 
point her out at the proper time,” said Fagin. You 
keep ready, and leave the rest to me.” 

That night, and the next, and the next again, the 
spy sat booted and equiped in his carter’s dress, ready 
to turn out at a word from Fagin. Six nights passed — 
six long weary nights — and on each Fagin came home 
with a disappointed face, and briefly said that it was 
not yet time. On the seventh he returned earlier, and 
with an exultation he could not conceal. It was Sunday. 

She goes abroad to-night,” said Fagin, and on 
the right errand, I’m sure, for she has been alone all 
day, and the man she is afraid of will not he hack much 
before daybreak. Come with me. Quick! ” 

Yoah started up without saying a word, for the Jew 
was in a state of such intense excitement that it in- 
fected him. They left the house stealthily, and, hurry- 
ing through a maze of streets, arrived at length before 
a public house, which Yoah recognized as the same in 
which he had slept on the night of his arrival in 
London. 

It was past eleven o’clock, and the door was closed. 
It opened softly on its hinges as the Jew gave a low 


294 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


whistle. They entered without noise^ and the door was 
closed behind them. 

Scarcely venturing to whisper, Fagin and the young 
Jew who had admitted them pointed out the pane of 
glass to ISToah, and signed to him to climb up and ob- 
serve the person in the adjoining room. 

Is that the woman? he asked, scarcely above his 
breath. 

The Jew nodded yes. 

I can’t see her face well,” whispered Noah. She 
is looking down, and the candle is behind her.” 

Stay there,” whispered Fagin. He signed to 
Barney, who withdrew. In an instant the lad entered 
the room adjoining, and, under pretense of snuffing the 
candle, moved it in the required position, and speaking 
to the girl caused her to raise her face. 

I see her now,” cried the spy. 

Plainly?” asked the Jew. 

I should know her among a thousand.” 

He hastily descended as the room door opened, and 
the girl came out. Fagin drew him behind a small par- 
tition which was curtained off, and they held their 
breaths as the girl passed within a few feet of their 
place of concealment and went out by the door at which 
they had entered. 

Hist! ” cried the lad who held the door. Dow.” 

Noah exchanged a look with Fagin, and darted 
out. 

To the left,” whispered the lad; ^Hake the left 
had, and keep od the other side.” 

He did so, and by the light of the lamps saw the 
girl’s retreating figure already at some distance from 
him. He advanced as near as he considered prudent, 
and kept on the opposite side of the street the better to 
observe her motions. She looked nervously around 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


295 


twice or thrice, and once stopped to let two men who 
were following close behind her pass on. She seemed 
to gather courage as she advanced, and to walk with 
a steadier and firmer step. The spy preserved the same 
relative distance between them and followed, with his 
eye upon her. 


CHAPTEE XLV. 


The church clocks chimed three quartei*s past eleven 
as two figures emerged on London Bridge. One^ which 
advanced with a swift and rapid step, was that of a 
woman, who looked eagerly about her as though in 
quest of some expected object, and the other figure 
was that of a man, who slunk along in the deepest 
shadow he could find, and at some distance accommo- 
dated his pace to hers, stopping when she stopped, and, 
as she moved again, creeping stealthily on, but never 
allowing himself in the ardor of his pursuit to gain upon 
her fqotsteps. Thus they crossed the bridge, when the 
woman, apparently disappointed in her anxious scrutiny 
of the foot passengers, turned back. The movement 
was sudden, but he who watched her was not thrown 
ofi his guard by it, for, shrinking into one of the re- 
cesses which surmount the piers of the bridge and lean- 
ing over the parapet the better to conceal his figure, he 
suffered her to pass on the opposite pavement. When 
she was about the same distance in advance as she had 
been before, he slipped quietly down and followed her 
again. At nearly the center of the bridge she stopped. 
The man stopped too. 

It was a very dark night. The day had been un- 
favorable, and at that hour and place there were few 
people stirring. Such as there were hurried quickly 
past. 


296 


THE STORY OP OLIVER TWIST. 


297 


The girl had taken a few restless turns to and fro, 
closely watched meanwhile by her hidden observer, 
when the heavy bell of St. PauPs tolled for the death 
of another day. Midnight had come upon the crowded 
city. 

The hour had not struck two minutes when a young 
lady, accompanied by a gray-haired gentleman, alighted 
from a hackney carriage within a short distance of the 
bridge, and, having dismissed the vehicle, walked 
straight toward it. They had scarcely set foot upon its 
pavement when the girl started and immediately made 
toward them. 

They walked onward, looking about them with the 
air of persons who entertained some very slight expecta- 
tion which had little chance of being realized, when 
they were suddenly joined by this new associate. They 
halted with an exclamation of surprise, but suppressed 
it immediately, for a man in the garments of a country- 
man came close up — brushed against them, indeed — at 
that precise moment. 

Not here,^^ said Nancy hurriedly. I am afraid 
to speak to you here. Come away — out of the public 
road — down the steps yonder! 

As she uttered these words and indicated with her 
hand the direction in which she wished them to proceed, 
the countryman looked round, and, roughly asking them 
what they took up the whole pavement for, passed on. 

The steps to which the girl had pointed were those 
on the Surrey bank, and, on the same side of the bridge 
as Saint Saviour’s Church, form a landing stairs from 
the river. To this spot the man bearing the appearance 
of a countryman hastened unobserved, and after a mo- 
ment’s survey of the place he began to descend. 

These stairs are a part of the bridge; they consist 
of three flights. Just below the end of the second the 


298 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


stone wall on the left terminates in an ornamental 
pilaster facing toward the Thames. At this point the 
lower steps widen, so that a person turning that angle 
of the wall is necessarily unseen by any others on the 
stairs who chance to be above him, if only a step. The 
countryman looked hastily round when he reached this 
point, and as there seemed no better place of conceal- 
ment, and, the tide being out, there was plenty of 
room, he slipped aside, with his back to the pilaster, 
and there waited, pretty certain that they would come 
no lower, and that even if he could not hear what was 
said, he could follow them again with safety. 

So tardily stole the time in this lonely place, and 
so eager was the spy to penetrate the motives of an in- 
terview so different from what he had been led to ex- 
pect, that he was on the point of emerging from his 
hiding place and regaining the road above when he 
heard the sound of footsteps, and directly afterward of 
voices almost close to his ear. 

He drew himself straight upright against the wall, 
and, scarcely, breathing, listened attentively. 

This is far enough,” said a voice, which was evi- 
dently that of the gentleman. I will not suffer the 
young lady to go any further. Many people would have 
distrusted you too much to have come even so far, but 
you see I am willing to humor you.” 

To humor me! ” cried the voice of the girl whom 
he had followed. YouTe considerate, indeed, sir. To 
humor me! Well, well, it^s no matter.” 

^‘^Why, what for,” said the gentleman in a kinder 
tone — ^^for what purpose can you have brought us to 
this strange place? Why not have let me speak to you 
above there, where it is light and there is something 
stirring, instead of bringing us to this dark and dismal 
hole?” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


299 


I told you before/^ said IN’ancy^ that I was afraid 
to speak tO' you there. I donH know why it is/^ said 
the girl, shuddering, but I have such a fear and dread 
upon me to-night that I can hardly stand.^^ 

A fear of what ? asked the gentleman, who 
seemed to pity her. 

I scarcely know what,^^ replied the girl. I wish 
I did.^^ 

Imagination,^^ said the gentleman, soothing her. 

Speak to her kindly,^^ said the young lady to her 
companion. Poor creature! She seems to need it.^^ 

You were not here last Sunday night,^^ said he. 

I couldnH come,^^ replied Yancy; I was kept by 
force.'’^ 

By whom ? 

Him that I told the young kdy of before.” 

You were not suspected of holding any communi- 
cation with anybody on the subject which has brought 
us here to-night, I hope ? ” asked the old gentleman. 

Ko,” replied the girl, shaking her head. IPs not 
very easy for me to leave him unless he knows why; 
I couldnh have seen the lady when I did but that I gave 
him a drink of laudanum before I came away.” 

Did he awake before you returned? ” inquired the 
gentleman. 

Yo; and neither he nor any of them suspected 

me.” 

Good! ” said the gentleman; ^^hTow listen to 

me.” 

I am ready,” replied the girl, as he paused for a 
moment. 

This young lady,” the gentleman began, has 
communicated to me and to some other friends w^ho 
can be safely trusted what you told her nearly a fort- 
night since. I confess to you that I had doubts at first 


300 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


whether you were to he believed, but now I firmly be- 
lieve you are.^^ 

I am/^ said the girl earnestly. 

I repeat that I firmly believe it. To prove to you 
that I am disposed to trust you, I tell you without re- 
serve that we propose to extort the secret, whatever it 
may be, from the fears of this man Monks. But if — 
if,^^ said the gentleman, he can not be secured, or, if 
secured, can not be acted upon as we wish, you must 
deliver up the Jew.^^ 

Fagin! cried the girl, recoiling. 

That man must be delivered up by you,’^ said the 
gentleman. 

I will not do it! I will never do it! replied the 

girl. 

You will not?” said the gentleman, who seemed 
fully prepared for this answer. 

Never! ” returned the girl. 

Then,” said the gentleman quickly, put Monks 
into my hands, and leave him to me to deal with.” 

What if he turns against the others?” 

I promise you that in that case, if the truth is 
forced from him, there the matter will rest; there must 
be circumstances in Oliver^s little history which it would 
be painful to drag before the public eye, and if the 
truth is once elicited they shall go scot free.” 

And if it is not? ” suggested the girl. 

Then,” pursued the gentleman, this Fagin shall 
not be brought to justice without your consent.” 

^^Have I the lady’s promise for that?” asked the 
girl. 

You have,” replied Eose. My true and faithful 
pledge.” 

Monks would never learn how you know what you 
do? ” said the girl after a short pause. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


301 


Never/^ replied the gentleman. The intelligence 
should be so brought to bear upon him that he could 
never even guess.^^ 

After receiving an assurance from both that she 
might safely do so^ she proceeded, in a voice so low 
that it was often difficult for the listener to discover 
even the purport of what she said, to describe, by name 
and situation, even the public house whence she had 
been followed that night. From the manner in which 
she occasionally paused it appeared as if the gentleman 
were making some hasty notes of the information she 
communicated. When she had thoroughly explained 
the localities of the place, the best position from which 
to watch it without exciting observation, and the night 
and hour in which Monks was most in the habit of fre- 
quenting it, she seemed to consider for a moment for 
the purpose of recalling his features and appearance 
more forcibly to her recollection. 

He is tall,^^ said the girl, and a strongly made 
man, but not stout; he has a lurking walk, and as he 
walks constantly looks over his shoulder, first on one 
side and then on the other. Don’t forget that, for his 
eyes are sunk into his head so much deeper than any 
other man’s that you might almost tell him by that 
alone. His face is dark, like his hair and eyes, and, al- 
though he can’t be more than six- or eight-and-twenty, 
withered and haggard. His lips are often discolored 
and disfigured with the marks of teeth, for he has des- 
perate fits, and sometimes even bites his hands and 

covers them with wounds Why did you start ? ” 

said the girl, stopping suddenly. 

The gentleman replied in a hurried manner that 
he was not conscious of having done so, and begged her 
to proceed. 

Part of this,” said the girl, I’ve drawn out from 


302 


THE STOKY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


other people at the house I tell you of, for I have only 
seen him twice, and both times he was covered up in 
a large cloak. I think that^s all I can give you to know 
him by. Stay, though,^^ she added. Upon his throat, 
so high that you can see a part of it below his necker- 
chief when he turns his face, there is 

A broad red mark, like a burn or scald,^^ cried the 
gentleman. 

How^s this,^^ said the girl. You know him? 

The young lady uttered a cry of surprise, and for 
a few moments they were so still that the listener could 
distinctly hear them breathe. 

I think I do,’^ said the gentleman, breaking the si- 
lence. I should by your description. We shall see. 
Many people are singularly like each other. It may not 
be the same.^^ 

^^Yow,^^ he said, ^^you have given us most valuable 
assistance, young woman, and I wish you to be the 
better for it. What can I do to serve you? 

^^Yothing,^^ replied Yancy. 

You will not persist in saying thaV^ rejoined the 
gentleman. Think now. Tell me.^^ 

Nothing, sir,^^ rejoined the girl, weeping. You 
can do nothing to help me.^^ 

After Rose and Mr. Brownlow had departed, Nancy 
arose and with feeble and tottering steps ascended to 
the street. 

Peeping out more than once to make sure that he 
was unobserved, Noah Claypole darted away at his ut- 
most speed, and made for the Jew^s house as fast as his 
legs would carry him. 


CHAPTEE XL VI. 


It was nearly two hours before daybreak; that time 
which, in the autumn of the year, may be truly called 
the dead of night. The Jew sat watching in his old 
den with face so distorted and pale and eyes so red and 
bloodshot that he looked less dike a man than like some 
hideous phantom. 

Stretched upon a mattress upon the floor lay Xoah 
Claypole fast asleep. Toward him the old man some- 
times directed his eyes for an instant, and then brought 
them back again to the candle, which, with long-burnt 
wick drooping almost double, and hot grease falling 
down in clots upon the table, plainly showed that his 
thoughts were busy elsewhere. 

He sat without changing his attitude in the least 
or appearing to take the smallest heed of time until 
his quick ear seemed to be attracted by a footstep in 
the street. 

^^At last!” muttered the Jew, wiping his dry and, 
fevered mouth. At last! ” 

The bell rang gently as he spoke. He crept upstairs 
to the door, and presently returned accompanied by a 
man muffled to the chin. Sitting down and throwing 
back his outer coat, this man displayed the burly frame 
of Sikes. 

Fagin did not take his eyes off the robber for an in- 
21 303 


301 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


slant, and now they sat over against each other, face 
to face, he looking fixedly at him, with his lips quiver- 
ing so violently and his face so altered by the emotions 
which had mastered him that the housebreaker invol- 
untarily drew back his chair with a look of real affright. 

^^Wot now?^^ cried Sikes. ^^Wot do you look at a 
man so for? 

The Jew raised his right hand and shook his trem- 
bling forefinger in the air; hut his passion was so great 
that the power of speech was for the moment gone. 

Sikes looked with an aspect of great perplexity into 
the Jew^s face, and, reading no satisfactory explanation 
of the riddle there, clinched his coat collar in his huge 
hand and shook him soundly. 

Speak, will you! he said; or if you donT, it 
shall he for want of breath. Open your mouth and say 
wot youVe got to say in plain words. Out with it, you 
trembling old cur, out with it! 

Suppose that lad that’s lying there ” Fagin 

began. 

Sikes turned round to where Noah was sleeping, as 
if he had not previously observed him. Well! ” he 
said, resuming his former position. 

Suppose that lad,” pursued the J ew, was to 
peach — to blow upon us all — first seeking but the right 
folks for the purpose, and then having a meeting with 
’em in the street to paint our likenesses, describe every 
mark that they might know us by, and the place where 
we might he most easily taken. Suppose he was to do 
all this of his own fancy, to please his own taste, steal- 
ing out at night to find those most interested against 
us, and peaching to them. Do you hear me ? ” cried 
the J ew, his eyes flashing with rage. Suppose he did 
all this, what then ? ” 

^^What then!” replied Sikes with a tremendous 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


305 


oath. If he was left alive until I came I’d grind his 
skull under the iron heel of my boot! ” 

What if I did it? ” cried the Jew almost in a yell. 

I, who know so much, and could hang so many be- 
sides myself?” 

I don’t know,” replied Sikes, clinching his teeth 
and turning white at the mere suggestion. I’d do 
something iji the jail that ’ud get me put in irons, and 
if I was tried along with you, I’d fall upon you with 
them in the open court and beat your brains out afore 
the people! ” 

^^You would?” 

Would I!” said the housebreaker. Try me!” 

If it was Charley, or the Dodger, or Bet^ or- ” 

I don’t care who>” replied Sikes impatiently. 

Whoever it was I’d serve them the same.” 

Fagin looked hard at the robber, and, motioning 
him to be silent, stooped over the bed upon the floor 
and shook the sleeper to rouse him. Sikes leant for- 
ward in his chair, looking on with his hands upon his 
knees, as if wondering much what all this questioning 
and preparation was to end in. 

Bolter! Bolter! Poor lad!” said Fagin, speaking 
slowly and with marked emphasis. He’s tired — tired 
with watching for her so long — watching for her. Bill! ” 

Wot d’ye mean?” asked Sikes, drawing back. 
The Jew made no answer, but, bending over the 
sleeper again, hauled him into a sitting posture. When 
his assumed name had been repeated several times, 
Noah rubbed his eyes and, giving a heavy yawn, looked 
sleepily about him. 

Tell me that again — once again, just for him to 
hear,” said the Jew, pointing to Sikes as he spoke. 

^^Tell yer what?” asked the sleepy Noah, shaking 
himself pettishly. 


306 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


That about Nancy/^ said the Jew, elutching Sikes 
by the wrist, as if to prevent his leaving the house be- 
fore he had heard enough. You followed her? 

Yes.^^ 

To London Bridge?” 

Yes.” 

Where she met two people ? ” 

So she did.” 

A gentleman and a lady that she had gone to of 
her own accord before, who asked her to give up all 
her friends, and Monks first, which she did — and to 
describe him, which she did — and to tell her what house 
it was that we meet at and go to, which she did — and 
where it could be best watched from, which ,she did — 
and what time the people went there, which she did. 
She did all this. She told it all every word without a 
threat, without a murmur — she did, did she not ? ” cried 
the Jew, half mad with fury. 

^^All right,” replied [N’oah, scratching his head. 

ThaLs just what it was! ” 

What did they say about last Sunday? ” demanded 
the Jew. 

About last Sunday?” replied IVoah, considering. 

Why, I told yer that before.” 

Again. Tell it again!” cried Fagin, tightening 
his grasp oil Sikes. 

They asked her,” said Yoah, who as he grew more 
wakeful seemed to have a dawning perception who Sikes 
was — they asked her why she didnT come last Sun- 
day, as she promised. She said she couldn’t.” 

^^Why — why?^’ interrupted the Jew triumphantly. 

Tell him that! ” 

Because she was forcibly kept at home by Bill, the 
man she had told them of before,” replied Noah. 

What more of him? ” cried the Jew. What more 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


307 


of the man she had told them of before? Tell him that, 
tell him that! 

Why, that she couldn’t very easily get out of doors 
unless he knew where she was going to,” said Noah; 

and so the first time she went to see the lady, she — 
ha! ha! ha! it made me laugh when she said it, that it 
did — she gave him a drink of laudanum.” 

Let me go ! ” cried Sikes, breaking fiercely from 
the Jew. Let me go!” 

Flinging the old man from him, he rushed from the 
room and darted-^ wildly and furiously up the stairs. 

He pulled open the door, of which the Jew had 
turned the lock, and dashed into the silent street. 

Without one pause or moment’s consideration, with- 
out once turning his head to the right or left or raising 
his eyes to the sky or lowering them to the ground, 
but looking straight before him with savage resolu- 
tion, his teeth so tightly compressed that the strained 
jaw seemed starting through his skin, the robber held 
on his headlong course, nor muttered a word nor re- 
laxed a muscle until he reached his own door. 

The girl was lying on a couch, soundly sleeping. He 
had roused her from her sleep, for she raised herself 
with a hurried and startled look. 

Get up! ” said the man. 

It is you. Bill! ” said the girl with an expression 
of pleasure at his return. 

It is,” was the reply. Get up! ” 

There was a candle burning, but the man hastily 
drew it from the candlestick and hurled it under the 
grate. Seeing the faint light of early day without, the 
girl rose to undraw the curtain. 

Let it be,” said Sikes, thrusting his hand be- 
fore her. There’s light enough for wot I’ve got to 
do.” 


308 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


said the girl in a low voice of alarm, why 
do you look like that at me? 

The robber sat regarding her for a few seconds with 
dilated nostrils and heaving breast, and then, grasping 
her by the head and throat, dragged her into the middle 
of the room, and looking once toward the door placed 
his heavy hand upon her mouth. 

Bill, Bill! gasped the girl, wrestling with the 
strength of mortal fear, I — I wonT scream or cry — 
not once — hear me — speak to me — tell me what I have 
done! 

You know,^^ returned the robber, suppressing his 
breath. You were watched to-night; every word you 
said was heard! 

Then spare my life, for the love of Heaven, as I 
spared yours,^^ rejoined the girl, clinging to him. Bill, 
dear Bill, you can not have the heart to kill me. You 
shall have time to think, and save yourself this crime; 
I will not loose my hold, you can not throw me off. 
Bill, Bill, for dear God’s sake, for your own, for mine, 
stop before you spill my blood! I have been true to you, 
upon my guilty soul, I have! ” 

The man struggled violently to release his 
arms, but those of the girl were clasped round his, 
and, tear her as he would, he could not tear them 
away. 

Bill,” cried the girl, striving to lay her head upon 
his breast, the gentleman and that dear lady told me 
to-night of a home in some foreign country where I 
could end my days in solitude and peace. Let me see 
them again and beg them on my knees to show the same 
goodness and mercy to you, and let us both leave this 
dreadful place and far apart lead better lives, and for- 
get how we have lived, except in prayers, and never see 
each other more. It is never too late to repent. They 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


309 


told me so — I feel it now — but we must have time — a 
little, little time! 

The housebreaker freed one arm. 

He staggered and fell blinded with the blood that 
rained down from a deep gash in her forehead; and 
Nancy, raising herself with difficulty on her knees, drew 
from her bosom a white handkerchief — Rose Mayhems 
own — and, holding it up in her folded hands as high 
toward heaven as her feeble strength would allow, 
breathed one prayer for mercy to her Maker. 


CHAPTEE XLYII. 


The next day, as twilight was beginning to close in, 
Mr. Brownlow alighted from a hackney coach at his 
own door and knocked softly. The door being opened, 
a sturdy man got out of the coach and stationed him- 
self on one side of the steps, while another man, who 
had been seated on the box, dismounted too and stood 
upon the other side. At a sign from Mr. Brownlow 
they helped out a third man, and taking him between 
them hurried him into the house. This man was 
Monks. 

They walked in the same manner up the stairs with- 
out speaking, and Mr. Brownlow, preceding them, led 
the way into a back room. At the door of this apart- 
ment Monks, who had ascended with evident reluctance, 
stopped. The two men looked to the old gentleman 
as if for instructions. 

He knows the alternative,^^ said Mr. Brownlow. 

If he hesitates or moves a finger hut as you hid him, 
drag him into the street, call for the aid of the police, 
and have him arrested in my name.^^ 

How dare you say this of me? asked Monks. 

^^How dare you urge me to it, young man?^^ re- 
plied Mr. Brownlow, confronting him with a steady 
look. Are you mad enough to leave this house? Un- 
hand him. There, sir! You are free to go, and we to 
follow. But I warn you, hv all I hold most solemn and 
310 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


311 


most sacred, that the instant you set foot in the street 
that instant will I have you arrested on a charge of 
fraud and robbery. I am resolute and immovable. If 
you are determined to he the same, your blood be upon 
your own head! 

By what authority am I kidnaped in the street 
and brought here by these dogs?^^ asked Monks, look- 
ing from one to the other of the men who stood beside 
him. 

By mine,^^ replied Mr. Brownlow. 

This is pretty treatment, sir,^^ said Monks, throw- 
ing down his hat and cloak, from my father’s oldest 
friend.” 

It is because I was your father’s oldest friend, 
young man,” returned Mr. Brownlow; it is because 
the hopes and wishes of young and happy years 'were 
hound up with him and his fair sister, who went to her 
God in youth and left me here a solitary, lonely man; 
it is because he kneeled with me beside her deathbed 
on the very morning that was to have made her my 
young wife; it is because my heart clung to him from 
that time forth, through all his trials and errors, until 
he died; it is because the sight of you brings witli it 
old thoughts of him and of her; it is because of all these 
things that I am moved to treat you gently now — ^yes, 
Edward Leeford, even now — and blush for your un- 
worthiness who hear the name.” 

^^What has the name to do with it?” asked the 
other. What is the name to me? ” 

Nothing,” replied Mr. Brownlow; nothing to 
you. But it was hers, and even at this distance of time 
brings back to me, an old man, the glow and thrill 
which I once felt, only to hear it repeated by a stranger. 
I am very glad you have changed it — very — very.” 

This is all mighty fine,” said Monks after a long 


312 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


silence, during which he had jerked himself in sullen 
defiance to and fro, and Mr. Brownlow had sat shading 
his face with his hand. But what do you want with 
me? 

You have a brother,’^ said Mr. Brownlow, rousing 
himself — a brother, the whisper of whose name in 
your ear when I came behind you in the street was in 
itself almost enough to make you come with me here 
in wonder and alarm.’^ 

I have no brother,^^ replied Monks. You know 
I was an only child. Why do you talk to me of broth- 
ers? You know that as well as 

Listen to what I do know,^^ said Mr. Brownlow. 

I shall interest you by and by. I know that your un- 
happy father when a mere hoy was forced into a 
wretched marriage by family pride and ambition, and 
that you were the only and most unnatural son.^’ 

Well, my parents were separated,’^ said Monks; 
“ and what of that ? ^ 

When they had been separated for some time,^^ 
returned Mr. Brownlow, and your mother had utterly 
forgotten the young husband, ten good years younger 
than herself, who, with prospects blighted, lingered on 
at home, he fell among new friends. This circumstance, 
at least, you know already.^^ 

Yot 1/^ said Monks, turning away his eyes and 
heating his foot upon the ground as a man who is de- 
termined to deny everything. Yot 

Your manner, no less than your actions, assures 
me that you have never forgotten it or ceased to think 
of it with hitterness,^^ returned Mr. Brownlow. I 
speak of fifteen years ago, when you were not more than 
eleven years old, and your father hut one-and-thirty — 
for he was, I repeat, a hoy when his father ordered him 
to marry. Must I go hack to events which cast a shade 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


313 


upon the memory of your parents, or will you spare it 
and tell me the truth ? 

I have nothing to tell/’ rejoined Monks. You 
must talk on, if you will.” 

^/These new friends, then,” said Mr. Brownlow, 
were a naval officer retired from the active service, 
whose wife had died some half a year before and left 
him with two children. They were both daughters — 
one a beautiful creature of nineteen, and the other a 
mere child of two or three years old.” 

What’s this to me?” asked Monks. 

They lived,” said Mr. Brownlow, without seeming 
to hear the interruption, in a part of the country to 
which your father had gone in his wandering, and 
where he had taken up his abode. Acquaintance, inti- 
macy, friendship, fast followed on each other. Your 
father was gifted as few men are. As the old officer 
knew him more and more, he grew to love him. I 
would that it had ended there. His daughter did the 
same.” 

The old gentleman paused. Monks was biting his 
lips, with his eyes fixed upon the fioor. Seeing this, he 
immediately went on: 

The end of a year found him contracted, solemnly 
contracted, to that daughter — the object of the first, 
true, ardent, only passion of a lovely girl.” 

Your tale is of the longest,” observed Monks, mov- 
ing restlessly in his chair. 

It is a true tale of grief and trial and sorrow, 
young man,” returned Mr. Brownlow, ^^and such tales 
usually are long; if it were only unmixed joy and hap- 
piness, it would be very brief. At length a rich relative 
died, and, to atone for your father’s misery, he left him 
his panacea for all griefs — money. It then became 
necessary that your father should go immediately to 


314 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Rome^ whither his relative had sped for health and where 
he had died^ leaving his affairs in great confusion. So 
you father went^ and was seized with mortal illness 
there. The moment this news reached Paris your 
mother followed him, taking you with her; he died the 
day after her arrival, leaving no will — no will — so that 
the whole property fell to her and you, although she 
had long been separated from him.^^ 

At this part of the recital Monks held his breath 
and listened with a face of intense eagerness, though 
his eyes were not directed toward the speaker. As Mr. 
Brownlow paused, he changed his position with the air 
of one who has experienced a sudden relief, and wiped 
his hot face and hands. 

Before he went to Rome, and as he passed through 
London on his way,^^ said Mr. Brownlow slowly, and 
fixing his eyes upon the other’s face, he came to me.” 

I never heard of that,” interrupted Monks. 

He came to me and left with me, among some 
other things, a picture — a portrait painted by himself 
— a likeness of this poor girl, the naval officer’s daugh- 
ter to whom he was contracted — which he did not wish 
to leave behind, and could not carry forward on his 
hasty journey. That was the last time I saw him on 
earth. I had no letter, and I never saw him more.” 

I went,” said Mr. Brownlow after a short pause — 
I went after his death to his country home, resolved 
to find the original of the picture and to offer to the 
unhappy girl a heart and home to shelter and compas- 
sionate her. Her family left that part a week before — 
they had paid their trifling debts and left the place by 
night. Why or whither none can tell.” 

Monks drew his breath yet more freely, and looked 
round with a smile of triumph. 

When your brother,” said Mr. Brownlow, drawing 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


315 


nearer to the other’s chair — when your brother — a 
feeble, ragged, neglected child — was cast in my way by 
a stronger hand than chance, and rescued by me from a 
life of vice and infamy ” 

What! ” cried Monks. 

By me,” said Mr. Brownlow. I told you I should 
interest you before long. When he was rescued by me, 
then, and lay recovering from sickness in my house, his 
strong resemblance to this picture I have spoken of 
struck me with astonishment. Even when I first saw 
him in all his dirt and misery there was a lingering 
expression in his face that came upon me like a glimpse 
of some old friend flashing on one in a vivid dream. I 
need not tell you he was snared away before I knew his 
history ” 

Why not?” asked Monks hastily. 

Because you know it well.” 

Denial to me is vain,” replied Mr. Brownlow. I 
shall show you that I know more than that.” 

You — you — can’t prove anything against me,” 
stammered Monks. I defy you to do it! ” 

We shall see,” returned the old gentleman with 
a searching glance. I lost the boy, and no efforts of 
mine could recover him. Your mother being dead, I 
knew that you alone could solve the mystery if any 
body could. I had heard that you were on your own 
estate in the West Indies, whither, as you well know, 
you went after your mother’s death to escape the con- 
sequence of a vicious career here. So I made the voyage, 
only to find that you had left the West Indies months 
before and were supposed to be in London, but no one 
’could tell where. I returned. I paced the streets by 
night and day, but, until two hours ago, all my efforts 
were fruitless, and I never saw you for an instant.” 


316 


THE STOKY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


And now you do see me/’ said Monks, rising bold- 
ly, what then? You don’t even know that my father 
and the officer’s daughter had a child; you don’t even 
know that! ” 

I did not know it,” replied Mr. Brownlow, rising 
too, but within the last fortnight I have learned all. 
You have a half-brother; you know it, and you know 
him. There was a will which your mother wickedly 
destroyed, leaving the secret and all the money to you 
at her own death. This will contained a reference to 
the child whom the father never saw, and who was acci- 
dentally encountered by you when your suspicions were 
first awakened by his resemblance to his father. You 
went to the place of his birth. There existed proofs — 
proofs long hidden — of his birth and parentage. These 
proofs were destroyed by you; and now, in your own 
words to your accomplice the J ew, ^ The only proofs of 
the hoy’s identity lie at the bottom of the river, and the 
old hag that received them from the mother is lying in her 
coffin’ Unworthy son, coward, liar ” 

No, no! ” interrupted the coward, overwhelmed by 
these charges. 

Every word,” cried the old gentleman — every 
word that passed between you and this detestable villain 
Fagin is known to me. Shadows on the w^all have 
caught your whispers and brought them to my ear; the 
sight of the persecuted child softened the heart of a 
young woman — one of the Jew’s accomplices — and gave 
her all the courage of virtue. Murder has been done, 
of which you were at least partially the cause.” 

^^Yo, no!” interposed Monks. — I know noth- 

ing of that; I was going to inquire the truth of the 
story when you overtook me. I didn’t know the cause. 
I thought it was a common quarrel between the man 
and girl.” 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


317 


It was because she partially disclosed your secrets/’ 
replied Mr. Brownlow. Will you disclose the whole? 

Yes, I will.” 

Will you sign your name to a statement of truths 
and facts, and repeat it before witnesses ? ” 

That I promise, too.” 

Will you remain quietly here until such a docu- 
ment is drawn up, and proceed with me to such a place 
as I may deem advisable for the purpose of signing 
it?” 

If you insist upon that. I’ll do that also,” replied 
Monks. 

You must do more than that,” said Mr. Brownlow. 

Restore his fortune to the innocent and unoffending 
child. You have not forgotten the provisions of the 
will. Carry them into execution so far as your brother 
is concerned, and then go where you please. In this 
world you and he need meet no more.” 


CHAPTEE XLVIII. 


Near to that part of the Thames on which the 
church at Eotherhithe abuts^ where the buildings on the 
banks are dirtiest and the vessels on the river blackest 
with the dust of colliers and the smoke of close-built, 
low-roofed houses, there exists the filthiest, the strangest, 
the most extraordinary of the many localities that are 
hidden in London, wholly unknown, even by name, to 
the great mass of its inhabitants. 

To reach this place the visitor has to penetrate 
through a maze of close, narrow, and muddy streets, 
thronged by the roughest and poorest of waterside people, 
and devoted to the traffic they may he supposed to occa- 
sion. 

In such a neighborhood stands Jacob’s Island, sur- 
rounded by a muddy ditch, six or eight feet deep and 
fifteen or twenty feet wide 'when the tide is in, once 
called Mill Pond, but known in the days of this story as 
Folly Ditch. 

It is a creek or inlet from the Thames, and can al- 
ways be filled at high water by opening the sluices at 
the lead mills, from which it took its old name. 

In Jacob’s Island the warehouses are roofless and 
empty; the walls are crumbling down; the windows are 
windows no more; the doors are falling into the streets; 
the chimneys are blackened, but they yield no smoke. 
Thirty or forty years ago it was a thriving place, but now 
318 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


319 


it is a desolate island. The houses have no owners; 
they are broken open and entered upon by those who 
have the courage; and there they live and there they 
die. 

In. the upper room of one of these houses — a de- 
tached house of fair size^ ruinous in other respects, but 
strongly defended at door and window, of which house 
the back commanded the ditch in the manner already 
described — there are assembled three men, who, regard- 
ing each other every now and then with looks expressive 
of fear and expectation, sat for some time in gloomy si- 
lence. 

One of these was Toby Crackit, another Mr. Chitling, 
and the third a robber of fifty years, whose name was 
Kags. 

I wish,^^ said Toby, turning to Mr. Chitling, that 
you had picked out some other place when the two old 
ones got too warm, and had not come here, my fine fel- 
low.^^ 

^^Well, I thought you would have been a little more 
glad to see me than this,^^ replied Mr. Chitling, with a 
melancholy air. 

Why, look e^, 3^oung gentleman, said Toby, when 
a man keeps himself so very exclusive as I have done, 
and by that means has a snug house over his head, with 
nobody a-prying and smelling about it, it^s rather 
startling to have the honor of a wisit from a young gen- 
tleman circumstanced as you are.’^ 

There was a short silence, after which Toby Crackit, 
seeming to abandon as hopeless an}^ further effort to 
maintain his usual swagger, asked, When was Fagin 
took to jail, then? 

Just at dinner time — ^two o^clock this afternoon. 
Charley and I made our lucky escape up the washhis 
chimney, and Bolter got into the empty water butt, head 
22 


320 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


downward; but his legs were so precious long that they 
stuck out at the top, and so they took him, too/^ 

xYnd the Dodger? 

Didn^t you know about poor Jacob? He was caught 
in the act of stealing a common snuffbox and was sent 
to Australia for life/^ 

This is a smash,^^ observed Toby, biting his lips. * 
There’s more than one will go with this.” 

You should have heard the people groan when 
Fagin was took,” said Chitling; the officers fought like 
fiends or the people would have torn him away. He was 
down once, but they made a ring around him and fought 
their way along. You should have seen how he looked 
about him, all muddy and torn and bleeding, and clung 
to them as if they were his dearest friends. I can see 
’em now, not able to stand upright with the pressing 
mob, and dragging him along among ’em; I can see 
the people jumping up, one behind another, and 
snarling with their teeth, and making at him like wild 
beasts.” 

The horror-stricken witness of this scene pressed his 
hands upon his ears, and with his eyes closed got up and 
paced violently to and fro, like one distracted. 

While he Tvas thus engaged, and the two men sat 
by in silence, with their eyes fixed upon the floor, a pat- 
tering noise was heard upon the stairs, and Sikes’s dog 
bounded into the room. They ran to the window down- 
stairs, and into the street. The dog had jumped in at 
an open window; he made no attempt to follow them, 
nor was his master to be seen. 

What’s the meaning of this ? ” said Toby, when 
they had returned. He can’t be coming here. I — I — 
hope not.” 

^^If he was coming here he’d have come with the 
dog,” said Kags, stooping down to examine the animal 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


321 


who lay panting on the floor. ^“^Here! Give us some 
water for hiin^ he^s run himself faint.^^ 

He^s drunk it all up^ every drop/^ said Chitling, 
after watching the dog some time in silence. Covered 
with mud — lame — half blind, he must have come a long 
way.^^ 

Where can he have come from? asked Toby. 

He's been to the other kens of course, and finding 
them filled with strangers, come on here, where he’s been 
many a time and often. But where can he have come 
from first, and how comes he here alone without the 
other ? ” 

He ” (none of them called the murderer by his 
right name) — he can’t have made ’way with himself. 
What do you think? ” said Chitling. 

Toby shook his head. 

If he had,” said Kags, the dog - would want to 
lead us away to where he did it. Ho, I think he has got 
out of the country and left the dog behind; he must have 
given him the slip somehow, or he wouldn’t be so easy.” 

This solution, seeming very probable, was adopted as 
the right one; and the dog, creeping under a chair, coiled 
himself up to sleep, without more notice from anybody. 

They had all sat quietly for some time, when suddenly 
-was heard a hurried knocking on the door below. 

Young Bates,” said Kags, looking angrily around to 
check the fear he felt himself. 

The knocking came again. Ho, it wasn’t he; he 
never knocked like that. 

Crackit went to the window, and, shaking all over, 
drew in his head. There was no need to tell them who 
it was; his pale face was enough. The dog, too, was on 
the alert in an instant, and ran whining to the door. 

We must let him in,” Crackit said, taking up the 
candle. He went to the door, and returned followed 


322 


THE STOEY OF OLIVEE TWIST. 


by a man with the lower part of his face buried in a 
handkerchief and another tied over his head under his 
hat. He drew them slowly off. Blanched face, sunken 
eye — the very ghost of Sikes stood before them. 

Hot a word was spoken. He looked from one to an- 
other in silence. When his hollow voice at last broke 
silence they all started, they seemed never to have heard 
it before. 

How came that dog here?^^ he asked. 

Alone! Three hours ago.’^ 

To-night^s paper says Fagin is taken; is it true or is 
it a lie? 

True.^^ 

They were silent again. 

^^You keep this house,^^ said Sikes, turning to 
Crackit; do you mean to sell me, or to let me lie here 
till this hunt is over? 

You may stop here if you think it is safe,’^ said 
Crackit, after some hesitation. 

Sikes carried his eyes slowly up the wall behind him, 
rather trying to turn his head than actually doing it, and 
said: 

Is it — the body — ^is it buried ? 

They shook their heads. 

Why isnT it ? he retorted, with the same glance 
behind him. 

Who’s that knocking? ” 

Crackit looked out. There were lights gleaming be- 
low, voices in loud and earnest conversation, the tramp 
of hurried footsteps, endless they seemed in number, 
crossing the nearest wooden bridge. One man on horse- 
back seemed to be among the crowd, for there was the 
noise of hoofs rattling on the uneven pavement. The 
gleam of light increased, the footsteps came more thickly 
and noisily on. Then came a loud knocking at the door. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


323 


and then a hoarse murmur from such a multitude of 
angry voices as would have made the boldest quail. 

Is the downstairs door fast?^^ asked Sikes. 

Double-locked and chained/^ replied Crackit^, who^ 
with the other two men, still remained quite helpless and 
bewildered. 

The panels — are they strong? 

Lined with sheet iron.^^ 

And the windows, too ? 

Yes, and the windows.^^ 

Do your worst,^" cried the desperate ruffian, throw- 
ing up the sash and menacing the crowd. Do your 
worst! ITl cheat you yet.^^ 

Of all the terrific yells that ever fell on mortal ears, 
none could exceed the cry of the infuriated throng. 
Among them all none showed such fury as the man on 
horseback, who, throwing- himself out of the saddle, 
and bursting through the crowd, cried beneath the win- 
dow, in a voice that rose above all others: 

Twenty guineas to the man who brings a ladder! 
The nearest voices took up the cry, and hundreds 
echoed it. Some called for ladders, some for sledge- 
hammers; some ran with torches to and fro as if to seek 
them, and still came back and roared again; some among 
the boldest attempted to climb up by the waterspout and 
crevices in the wall; and all waved to and fro in the 
darkness beneath, like a field of corn moved by an angry 
wind, and joined from time to time in one loud, furious 
roar. 

The tide,^’ cried the murderer, as he staggered hack 
into the room and shut the faces out — the tide was in 
as I came up. Give me a rope, a long rope. They’re all 
in front. I may drop into the Folly Ditch and clear off 
that way. Give me a rope, or I shall do three more mur- 
ders and kill myself.” 


324 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


The panic-stricken men pointed to where such arti- 
cles were kept; the murderer, hastily selecting the long- 
est and strongest cord, hurried up to the housetop. 

All the windows in the rear of the house had been 
long ago bricked up, but the murderer emerged at last 
on the housetop by the door in the roof. 

He planted a board, which he had carried up with 
him for the purpose, so firmly against the door that it 
must be a matter of great difficulty to open it from the 
inside, and creeping over the tiles, looked over the low 
parapet. 

The water was out, and the ditch a bed of mud! 

The crowd had been hushed during these few mo- 
ments, watching his motions and doubtful of his pur- 
pose, hut the instant they perceived it, and knew it 
was defeated, they raised a cry of triumph to which all 
their previous shouting had been whispers. Again and 
again it rose. Those who were at too great a distance to 
know its meaning took up the sound; it echoed and re- 
echoed; it seemed as though the whole city had poured 
its population out to curse him. 

On pressed the people from the front — on, on, on, 
in a strong, struggling current of angry faces, with here 
and there a glaring torch to light them up and show them 
out in all their wrath and passion. The houses on the 
opposite side of the ditch had been entered by the mob; 
sashes were thrown up, or torn bodily out; there were 
tiers and tiers of faces in every window, and cluster 
upon cluster of people clinging to every housetop. Each 
little bridge (and there were three in sight) bent be- 
neath the weight of the crowd upon it. Still the cur- 
rent poured on to find some nook or hole from which to 
vent their shouts, and only for an instant see the wretch. 

They have him now! cried a man on the nearest 
bridge. Hurrah! 


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THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 325 

Again the shout arose. 

I will give fifty pounds/^ cried an old gentleman 
from the same quarter, to the man who takes him 
alive. I will remain here till he comes to ask me for it.’^ 

There was another roar. At this moment the word 
was passed among the crowd that the door was forced at 
last, and that he who had first called for the ladder had 
mounted into the room. 

The man had shrunk down, thoroughly quelled by 
the ferocity of the crowd and the impossibility of es- 
cape; but seeing this sudden change with no less rapid;>^ 
ity than it had occurred, he sprang upoh his feet det&- 
mined to make one last effort for his life by dropping 
into the ditch, and, at the risk of being stifled, endeavor 
to creep away in the darkness and confusion. 

Housed into new strength and energy, and stimulated 
by the noise within the house, which announced that an 
entrance had really been effected, he set his foot against 
the stack of chimneys, fastened one end of the rope tight- 
ly and firmly round it, and with the other made a strong 
running noose, by the aid of his hands and teeth, almost 
in a second. He could let himself down by the cord to 
within a less distance of the ground than his own height, 
and had his knife ready in his hand to cut it then and 
drop. 

At the very instant when he brought the loop over 
his head, previous to slipping it beneath his armpits, 
and when the old gentleman before mentioned (who had 
clung so tight to the railing of the bridge as to resist 
the force of the crowd and retain his position) earnestly 
warned those about him that the man was about to lower 
himself down — at that very instant the murderer, look- 
ing behind him on the roof, threw his arms above his 
head and uttered a yell of terror. 

Staggering, as if struck by lightning, he lost his bal- 


326 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


ance and tumbled over the parapet. The noose was on 
his neck. It ran up with his weight as a bowstring and 
swift as the arrow speeds. He fell for five-and-thirty 
feet. There was a sudden jerk, a terrific convulsion of 
the limb, and there he hung, with the open knife clinched 
in his stiffening hand. 

The old chimney quivered with the shock, but stood 
it bravely. The murderer swung lifeless against the 
wall. 

A dog, which had lain concealed till now, ran back- 
w’ard and forward on the parapet with a dismal howl, 
and collecLing LAj:!?lf for a spring jumped for the dead 
man^s shoulders. Missing his aim, he fell into the ditch, 
turning completely over as he went, and striking his 
head against a stone dashed out his brains. 


CHAPTEE XLIX. 


One bright day later Oliver found himself, at three 
o’clock in the afternoon, in a traveling carriage rolling 
fast toward his native town. Mrs. Maylie and Eose and 
Mrs. Bedwin and the good doctor were with him, and 
Mr. Brownlow followed in a post chaise accompanied by 
one other person whose name has not been mentioned. 

See there, there!” cried Oliver, eagerly clasping 
the hand of Eose and pointing out at the carriage win- 
dow; that’s the stile I came over; there are the hedges 
I crept behind, for fear any one should overtake me and 
force me back! Yonder is the path across the fields, lead- 
ing to the old house where I was a little child! 0 Dick, 
Dick, my dear old friend, if I could only see you now! ” 
You will see him soon,” replied Eose, gently tak- 
ing his folded hands between her own. You shall tell 
him how happy you are, and how rich you have grown, 
and that in all your happiness you have none so great 
as coming back to make him happy too.” 

Yes, yes,” said Oliver, and we’ll — we’ll take him 
away from here, and have him clothed and taught, and 
send him to some quiet country place where he may 
grow strong and well — shall we? ” 

Eose nodded yes,” for the boy was smiling through 
such happy tears that she could not speak. 

You will be kind and good to him, for you are good 
to every one,” said Oliver. ^^It will make you cry, I 
327 


328 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


know^ to hear what he can tell; but never mind^ never 
mind; it will be all over^ and you will smile again — I 
know that too — to think how changed he is — you did the 
same with me. He said ^ God bless you^ to me when I 
ran away/^ cried the boy^ with a burst of affectionate 
emotion^ and I will say God bless you ^ now^ and show 
him how I love him for it! 

As they approached the town, and at length drove 
through its narrow streets, it became matter of no small 
difficulty to restrain the boy within reasonable hounds. 
There w^as Sowerberry’s, the undertakers, just as it used 
to be, only smaller and less imposing in appearance than 
he remembered it; there were all the well-known shops 
and houses, with almost every one of which he had some 
slight incident connected; there was Gamfield^s cart, the 
very cart he used to have, standing at the old public- 
house door; there was the workhouse, the dreary prison 
of his youthful days, with its dismal windows frowning 
on the street; there was the same lean porter standing at 
the gate, at the sight of whom Oliver involuntarily shrunk 
back, and then laughed at himself for being so foolish, 
then cried, then laughed again; there were scores of faces 
at the doors and windows that he knew quite well; there 
was nearly everything as if he had left it but yesterday, 
and all his recent life had been hut a happy dream. 

But it was pure, earnest, joyful reality. They drove 
straight up to the door of the chief hotel (which Oliver 
used to stare up at with awe, and think a mighty palace, 
but which had somehow fallen off in grandeur and size); 
and here was Mr. Grimwig all ready to receive them, kiss- 
ing the young lady, and the old one, too, when they got 
out of the coach, as if he were the grandfather of the 
whole party, all smiles and kindness. 

Mr. Brownlow did not join them at dinner, but re- 
mained in a separate room. The two other gentlemen 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


329 


hurried in and out with anxious faces^ and during the 
short intervals when they were present conversed apart. 
Once Mrs. Maylie was called away, and after being ab- 
sent for nearly an hour, returned with eyes swollen with 
weeping. All, these things made Eose and Oliver, who 
who were not in any new secrets, nervous and uncom- 
fortable. They sat wondering, in silence; or, if they 
exchanged a few words, spoke in whispers, as if they 
were afraid to hear the sound of their own voices. 

At length, when nine o’clock had come, and they 
began to think they were to hear no more that night, 
Mr. Losberne and Mr. Grimwig entered the room, fol- 
lowed by Mr. Brownlow and a man whom Oliver almost 
shrieked with surprise to see, for they told him it was 
his brother, and it was the same man he had met at the 
market town, and seen looking in with Fagin at the win- 
dow of his little room. Monks cast a look of hate, which, 
even then, he could not conceal, at the astonished boy, 
and sat down near the door. Mr. Brownlow, who had 
papers in his hand, walked to a table near which Oliver 
and Eose were seated. 

This is a painful task,” said he, but these declara- 
tions, which have been signed in London before many 
gentlemen, must be in substance repeated here. I 
would have spared you the degradation, but we must 
hear from your own lips before we part, and you know 
why.” 

Go on,” said the person addressed, turning away 
his face. Quick! I have almost done enough I think. 
Don’t keep me here.” 

This child,” said Mr. Brownlow, drawing Oliver to 
him and laying his hand upon his head, is your half- 
brother, the son of your father, my dear friend Edwin 
Leeford, and young Agnes Fleming, who died soon after 
his birth.” 


330 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Yes/^ said Monks, scowling at the trembling boy, 
the beating of whose heart he might have heard. 

He was born in this town,^^ said Mr. Brownlow. 

In the workhouse of this town,^^ was the sullen 
reply. You have the story there.^^ He pointed impa- 
tiently to the papers as he spoke. 

What about your father’s will ? ” said Mr. Brown- 

low. 

Monks was silent. 

In his will,” said Mr. Brownlow, the hulk of his 
property he divided into two equal portions — one for 
Agnes Fleming; the other for their child, whom he never 
saw, if it should live to come of age. If it was a girl it 
W'as to inherit the money unconditionally, but if a boy 
only on the condition that in his minority he should 
never have stained his name with any public act of dis- 
honor, meanness, cowardice, or wrong. He did this, he 
said, to mark his confidence in the mother, and his con- 
viction that the child would share her gentle heart and 
noble nature. If he were disappointed in this expecta- 
tion, then the money was to come to you; for then, and 
not till then, when both children were equal, would he 
recognize your prior claim upon his purse, for you had 
none upon his heart, hut had, from infancy, repulsed 
him with coldness and aversion.” 

My mother,” said Monks, in a louder tone, did 
what a woman should have done — she burnt this will. 
She died after a lingering illness, and on her deathbed 
bequeathed these secrets to me. I swore to her, if ever 
this child should cross my path, to hunt him down; never 
to let him rest; to pursue him with the bitterest and most 
unrelenting hatred; and to mock at the empty boast of 
that insulting will by dragging him, if I could, to prison 
itself. He came in my way at last. I began well and, but 
for a babbling girl, I would have finished as I began! ” 


THE STOHY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


331 


AVhat of the locket and ring which your father 
had given Agnes, and which she always wore ? said Mr. 
Brownlow, turning to Monks. 

I bought them from the man and woman I told 
you of, who stole them from the nurse, who stole them 
from Agnesis dead body,^^ answered Monks, without rais- 
ing his eyes. You know what became of them.^^ 

Mr. Brownlow merely nodded to Mr. Grimwig, who 
disappeared with great alacrity, and shortly returned, 
pushing in Mrs. Bumble, and dragging her unwilling 
husband after him. 

Do my heyes deceive me,^^ cried Mr. Bumble, with 
ill-feigned enthusiasm, or is that little Oliver? 0 
0-li-ver, if you knowM how I’ve been grieving for 


Hold your tongue, fool ! ” murmured Mrs. Bumble. 

Isn’t natur natur, Mrs. Bumble ? ” remonstrated 
the workhouse master. Can’t I be supposed to feel — • 
I as brought him up in the parish — when I see him a- 
setting here among ladies and gentlemens of the very 
aflahlest description? I always loved the boy as if he’d 
been my — my — my own grandfather,” said Mr. Bumble, 
halting for an appropriate comparison. Master Oliver, 
my dear, you remember the blessed gentleman in the 
w^hite waistcoat? Ah! he went to heaven last week in a 
oak coffin with plated handles, Oliver.” 

Come, sir,” said Mr. Grimwig tartly, suppress 
your feelings.” 

I will do my endeavors, sir.” replied Mr. Bumble. 

How do you do, sir? I hope you are very well? ” 

This salutation was addressed to Mr. Brownlow, who 
had stepped up to within a short distance of the respect- 
able couple. He inquired, as he pointed to Monks: 

Do you know that person ? ” 

No,” replied Mrs. Bumble, flatly. 


332 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


Perhaps you don’t? said Mr. Brownlow, address- 
ing her spouse. 

I never saw him in all my life/’ said Mr. Bumble. 

ISTor sold him anything, perhaps? ” 

No/’ replied Mrs. Bumble. 

You never had, perhaps, a certain locket and ring? ” 
said Mr. Brownlow. 

Certainly not,” replied the matron. Why are we 
brought here to answer to such nonsense as this ? ” 

Again Mr. Brownlow nodded to Mr. Grimwig, and 
again that gentleman limped away with extraordinary 
readiness. This time he returned leading in two palsied 
women, who shook and tottered as they walked. 

You shut the door the night old Sally died,” said 
the foremost one, raising her shriveled hand, but you 
couldn’t shut out the sound nor stop the chinks.” 

No, no,” said the other, looking around her and 
wagging her toothless Jaws. No, no, no! ” 

We heard her try to tell you what she’d done, and 
saw you take a paper from her hand, and watched you, 
too, next day, to the pawnbroker’s shop,” said the first. 

Yes,” added the second, and it was a locket and 
gold ring. We found out that, and saw it given 3^ou. 
We were by. Oh! we were by! ” 

And we know more than that,” resumed the first, 
for Sally told us often, long ago, that the young mother 
had told her that, feeling she should never get well, 
she was on her way to die near the grave of the father of 
her child.” 

Would you like to see the pawnbroker himself?” 
asked Mr. Grimwig, with a motion toward the door. 

No,” replied Mrs. Bumble; if he ” — she pointed 
to Monks — has been coward enough to confess, as I 
see he has, and you have sounded all these hags till you 
have found the right ones, I have nothing more to say. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


333 


I did sell them, and they’re where youTl never get them. 
What then? ” 

Nothing/’ replied Mr. Brownlow, except that it 
remains for ns to take care that neither of you is employed 
in a situation of trust again. You may leave the room.” 

I hope/’ said Mr. Bumble^ looking about him with 
great ruefulness^ as Mr. ^Grimwig disappeared with the 
two old women — I hope this unfortunate little circum- 
stance will not deprive me of my parish office ? ” 

Indeed it will/’ replied Mr. Brownlow. You 
may make up your mind to that, and think yourself well 
off besides.” 

It was all Mrs. Bumble. She would do it,” urged 
Mr. Bumble, first looking round to see that his partner 
had left the room. 

That is no excuse,” replied Mr. Brownlow. You 
were present on the occasion of the destruction of these 
trinkets, and indeed are the more guilty of the two in 
the eye of the law; for the law supposes that your wife 
acts under your direction.” 

If the law supposes that,” said Mr. Bumble, squeez- 
ing his hat emphatically in both hands, the law is an 
idiot! ” 

YYung lady,” said Mr. Brownlow, turning to Eose, 
give me your hand. Do not tremble. You need not 
fear to hear the few remaining words we have to say.-^ 

If they have — I do not know how they can, but if 
they have — any reference to me,” said Rose, pray let 
me hear them at some other time. I have neither 
strength or spirits now.” 

Nay,” returned the old gentleman, drawing her 
arm through his; you have more courage than this, I 
am sure. Do you know this young lady, sir? ” 

Yes,” replied Monks. 

I never saw you before,” said Eose faintly. 


334 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


I have seen yon often/^ returned Monks. 

The father of the unhappy Agnes had two daugh- 
ters/^ said Mr. Brownlow. What was the fate of the 
other — ^the child? 

The child/^ replied Monks^ when her father died 
in a strange place^ without a letter^ book, or scrap of 
pamper that yielded the faintest clue by which his friends 
or relatives could he traced — the child was taken by some 
wretched cottagers, who reared her as their own.^^ 

Go on,^^ said Mr. Brownlow, signing to Mrs. May- 
lie to approach. Go on! 

You couldn’t find the spot to which these people 
had gone,” said Monks, but where friendship fails, 
hatred will often force a way. My mother found it, after 
a year of cunning search — aye, and found the child — who, 
after dragging on a miserable existence with the cot- 
tagers, was adopted in pity by a widow lady who saw her 
by chance, and took her home. There was some spell, 
I think, . against us; for in spite of all our efforts she 
remained there and was happy. I lost sight of her two 
or three years ago, and saw, her no more until a few 
months back.” 

Do you see her now? ” 

Yes. Leaning on your arm.” 

But not the less my niece,” cried Mrs. Maylie, 
folding the fainting girl in her arms; not the less my 
dearest child! I would not lose her now for all the 
treasures of the world. My sweet companion, my own 
dear girl ! ” 

The only friend I ever had,” cried Rose, clinging 
to her. ^‘^The kindest, best of friends! My heart will 
burst. I can not bear all this! ” 

You have borne more, and have been, through all, 
ihe best and gentlest creature that ever shed happiness 
on every one she knew,” said Mrs. Maylie, embracing her 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


335 


tenderly. Come^ come, my love, remember who this is 
who waits to clasp you in his arms, poor child! See here 
— look, look, my dear! 

My aunt! cried Oliver, throwing his arms about 
her neck, but ITl never call her aunt — sister, my own 
dear sister, that something taught my heart to love so 
dearly from the first. Rose! dear, darling Rose! 

Let the tears which fell, and the broken words which 
were exchanged in the long close embrace between the 
orphans, be sacred. They were a long, long time alone. 
A soft tap at the door at length announced that some 
one was without. Oliver opened it, glided away, and gave 
place to Harry Maylie. 

I know it he said, taking a seat beside the 
lovely girl. Dear Rose, I know it all! Do you guess 
that I have come to remind you of a promise? 

Stay,^^ said Rose. You do know all.^^ 

All. You gave me leave, at any time within a year, 
to renew the subject of our last discourse.^’ 

The disclosure of to-night,’^ said Rose softly, 
leaves me in the same position, with reference to you, 
as that in which I stood before.^^ 

You harden your heart against me, Rose,^’ urged 
her lover. 

0 Harry, Harry,^’ said the young lady, bursting 
into tears, I wish I could, and spare myself this pain! 

Then why inflict it upon yourself?^’ said Harry, 
faking her hand. My hopes, my wishes, prospects, feel- 
ing — every thought in life except my love for you, have 
undergone a change! I offer you now no distinction 
among a bustling crowd, but a home — a heart and home — 
yes, dearest Rose, and those, and those alone, are all I 
have to offer.^^ 

What do 3 ^ mean?^^ she faltered. 

I mean but this — that when I left you last I de- 
23 


336 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


termined to level all fancied barriers between yourself 
and me; resolved that if my world could not be yours I 
would make yours mine. This I have done. Such 
power and patronage, such relatives of influence and 
rank, as smiled upon me once, look coldly now; but there 
are smiling fields and waving trees in England’s richest 
county, and by one village church — mine. Hose, my own ! 
— there stands a rustic dwelling which you can make me 
prouder of than all the hopes I have renounced. This 
is my rank and station now, and here I lay it down! ” 

It’s a trying thing waiting supper for lovers,” said 
Mr. Grimwig, w^aking up and pulling his pocket hand- 
kerchief from over his head. 

Truth to tell, the supper had been waiting a most 
unreasonable time. ^Neither Mrs. Maylie, nor Harry, nor 
Eose, who all came in together, could offer a word of 
excuse. 

I had serious thoughts of eating my head to-night,” 
said Mr. Grimwig, f or I began to thinlv I should get 
nothing else. I’ll take the liberty, if you’ll allow me, 
of saluting the bride that is to be.” 

Mr. Grimwig lost no time in carrying this notice into 
effect upon the blushing girl; and the example being 
contagious, was followed both by the doctor and Mr. 
Brownlow. 

Oliver, my child,” said Mrs. Maylie, where have 
you been, and why do you look so sad? There are tears 
stealing down your face at this moment. AVhat is the 
matter? ” 

It is a world of disappointment, often to the hopes we 
most cherish, and hopes that do our nature the greatest 
honor. 

Poor Dick was dead! 


CHAPTER L. 


The court was paved from floor to roof with human 
faces. Inquisitive and eager eyes peered from every inch 
of space. 

From the rail before the dock, away into the sharp- 
est angle of the smallest corner of the galleries, all looks 
were fixed upon one man — Fagin. Before him and be- 
hind — above, below, on the right, and on the left — he 
seemed to stand surrounded by a firmament all bright 
with gleaming eyes. 

He stood there, in all this glare of living light, with 
one hand resting on the wooden slab and the other held 
to his ear, and his head thrust forward to enable him 
to catch with greater distinctness every word that fell 
from the presiding judge, who was delivering his charge 
to the jury. 

Beyond these manifestations of anxiety he stirred 
not hand or foot. He had scarcely moved since the trial 
began; and now that the judge ceased to speak, he still 
remained in the same strained attitude of close attention, 
with his gaze bent on him as though he listened still. 

A slight bustle in the court recalled him to himself. 
Looking round, he saw that the jurymen had turned to- 
gether to consider their verdict. As his eyes wandered 
to the gallery, he could see the people rising above each 
other to see his face. But in no one face — not even among 
the women, of whom there were many there — could he 
337 




338 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


read the faintest sympathy with himself^, or any feeling 
but one of all-absorbing interest that he should be con- 
demned. 

As he saw all this in one bewildered glance, the death- 
like stillness came again, and looking back, he saw that 
the jurymen had turned toward the judge. 

Hush! 

They only sought permission to retire. 

He looked wistfully into their faces, one by one, 
when they passed out, as though to see which way the 
greater number leaned; but that was fruitless. The 
jailer touched him on the shoulder. He followed me- 
chanically to the end of the dock, and sat down on a 
chair. The man pointed it out, or he would not have 
seen it. 

He looked up into the gallery again. Some of the 
people were eating and some fanning themselves with 
handkerchiefs, for the crowded place was very hot. 

All this time his mind was not for an instant free 
from one oppressive, overwhelming sense of the grave 
that opened at his feet; it was even present to him but in 
a vague and general way, and he could not fix his thoughts 
upon it. 

At length there was a cry of silence, and a breathless 
look from all toward the door. The jury returned and 
passed him close. He could glean nothing from their 
faces; they might as well have been of stone. Perfect 
stillness ensued — not a rustle — not a breath. Guilty! 

The building rang with a tremendous shout, and an- 
other and another, and then it echoed loud groans, that 
gathered strength as they swelled out, like angry thunder. 
It was a peal of joy from the populace outside, greeting 
the news that he would die on Monday. 

The noise subsided, and he was asked if he had any- 
thing to say why sentence of death should not be passed 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


339 


upon him. It was twice repeated before he seemed to 
hear it, and then he only muttered that he was an old 
man — an old man — an old man — and so, dropping into a 
whisper, was silent again. 

The judge assumed the black cap, and the prisoner 
stood with the same air and gesture. The address was 
solemn and impressive, the sentence fearful to hear. But 
he stood like a marble figure, without the motion of a 
nerve. His haggard face was still thrust forward, his 
under jaw hanging down, and his eyes staring out be- 
fore him, when the jailer put his hand upon his arm and 
beckoned him away. He gazed stupidly about him for 
an instant and obeyed. 

They led him through a paved room under the court, 
where some prisoners were waiting till their turns came, 
and others were talking to their friends, who crowded 
round there to speak to him; hut, as he passed, the pris- 
oners fell back to render him more visible to the people 
who were clinging to the bars, and they assailed him with 
opprobrious names, and screeched and hissed. He shook 
his fist and would have spat upon them, hut his conduc- 
tors hurried him on, through a gloomy passage lighted 
by a few dim lamps, into the interior of the prison. 

Here he was searched, that he might not have about 
him the means of self-destruction; this ceremony over, 
they led him to one of the condemned cells, and left 
him there — alone. 

He sat down on a stone bench opposite the door, which 
served for seat and bedstead, and casting his bloodshot 
eyes upon the ground, tried to collect his thoughts. After 
awhile he began to remember a few disjointed fragments 
of what the judge had said, though it had seemed to him 
at the time that he could not hear a word. These gradual- 
ly fell into their proper places, and by degrees suggested 
more, so that in a little time he had the whole almost 


340 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


as it were delivered. To be hanged by the neck till he 
was dead — that was the end. To be hanged by the neck 
till he was dead. 

The day passed off. Day? There was no day; it was 
gone as soon as come, and night came on again — the 
night so long and yet so short; long in its dreadful si- 
lence, and short in its fleeting hours. At one time he 
raved and blasphemed; at another howled and tore his 
hair. Venerable men of his own persuasion had come 
to pray beside him, but he had driven them away with 
curses. They renewed their charitable efforts, and he 
beat them off. 

Saturday night. He had only one night more to live. 
And as he thought of this the day broke — Sunday. 

It was not until the night of this last awful day that 
a withering sense of his helpless, desperate state came 
in its full intensity upon his blighted soul. He had 
spoken little to either of the two men who relieved each 
other in their attendance upon him; and they, for their 
parts, made no effort to rouse his attention. He had sat 
there awake, but dreaming. He grew so terrible at last 
in all the tortures of his evil conscience that one man 
could not bear to sit there eying him alone, and so the two 
kept watch together. 

He cowered down upon his stone bed and thought of 
the past. He had been wounded with some missiles from 
the crowd on the day of his capture, and his head was 
bandaged with a linen cloth. His red hair hung down 
upon his bloodless face; his beard was torn and twisted 
into knots; his eyes shone with a terrible light; his un- 
washed flesh crackled with the fever that burned him up. 
Eight — nine — ten. If it was not a trick to frighten him, 
and those were the real hours treading on each other’s 
heels, where would he be when they came round again? 
Eleven! Another struck before the voice of the previous 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


341 


hour had ceased to vibrate. At eight he would he the 
only mourner in his own funeral train: at eleven 

Those dreadful walls of Newgate, which have hidden 
so much misery and such unspeakable anguish, not only 
from the eyes, but too often and too long from the 
thoughts of men, never held so dread a spectacle as that. 
The few who lingered as they passed, and wondered 
what the man was doing who was to be hanged to-mor- 
row, would have slept but ill that night if they could 
have seen him. 

The space before the prison was cleared, and a few 
strong barriers, painted black, had been already thrown 
across the road to break the pressure of the expected 
crowd, when Mr. Brownlow and Oliver appeared at the 
wicket and presented an order of admission to the pris- 
oner, signed by one of the sheriffs. They were imme- 
diately admitted into the lodge. 

Is the young gentleman to come too, sir? said the 
man whose duty it was to conduct them. It’s not a 
sight for children, sir.” 

It is not indeed, my friend,” rejoined Mr. Brown- 
low; but my business with this man is intimately con- 
nected with him, and as a child he has seen him in the 
full career of his success and villainy, I think it as well 
— even at the cost of some pain and fear — that he should 
see him now.” 

These few words had been said apart, so as to be in- 
audible to Oliver. The man touched his hat, and glan- 
cing at Oliver with some curiosity, opened another 
gate opposite to that by which they had entered, and led 
them on through dark and winding ways toward the 
cells. 

This,” said the man, stopping in a gloomy passage 
where a couple of workmen were making some prepara- 
tions in profound silence — this is the place he passes 


342 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


through. If you step this way you can see the door he 
goes out at.^^ 

He led them into a stone kitchen^ fitted with cop- 
pers for dressing the prison food, and pointed to a door. 
There was an open grating above it through which came 
the sound of men^s voices, mingled with the noise of ham- 
mering and the throwing down of boards. They were 
putting up the scaffold. 

From this place they passed through several strong 
gates, opened by other turnkeys from the inner side, and, 
having entered an open yard, ascended a flight of narrow 
steps and came into a passage with a row of strong doors 
on the left hand. 

Motioning them to remain where they were, the 
turnkey knocked at one of these with his bunch of keys. 
The two attendants, after a little whispering, came out 
into the passage, stretching themselves as if glad of the 
temporary relief, and motioned the visitors to follow the 
jailer into the cell. They did so. 

The condemned criminal was seated on his bed, rock- 
ing himself from side to side, with a countenance more 
like that of a snared beast than the face of a man. His 
mind was evidently wandering to his old life, for he 
continued to mutter, without appearing conscious of their 
presence, otherwise than as a part of his vision. 

Good boy, Charley — well done,^^ he mumbled. 

Oliver too, ha! ha! ha! Oliver too — quite the .gentle- 
man now — quite the Take that boy away to bed! 

The jailer took the disengaged hand of Oliver, and, 
whispering him not to be alarmed, looked on without 
speaking. 

Take him away to bed,^^ cried Fagin. Do you 
hear me, some of you? He has been the — the — some- 
how the cause of all this.^^ 

Fagin,^’ said the jailer. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


343 


Thaf s me! cried the Jew, falling instantly into 
the attitude of listening he had assumed upon his trial. 

An old man, my lord, a very old, old man! 

Here,^^ said the turnkey, laying his hand upon his 
breast to keep him down, here^s somebody wants to 
see you, to ask you some questions, I suppose. Fagin! 
Fagin! Are you a man?^^ 

I shan’t be one long,” he replied, looking up with a 
face retaining no human expression but rage and terror. 

Strike them all dead! What right have they to butcher 
me ? ” 

As he spoke he caught sight of Oliver and Mr. Brown- 
low. Shrinking to the farthest corner of the seat, he de- 
manded to know what they wanted there. 

Steady,” said the turnkey, still holding him down. 

Now, sir, tell him what you want. Quick, if you please, 
for he grows worse as the time gets on.” 

You have some papers,” said Mr. Brownlow, ad- 
vancing, which were placed in your hands, for better 
security, by a man called Monks.” 

It’s all a lie together,” replied Fagin. I haven’t 
one — not one.” 

For the love of God,” said Mr. Brownlow, solemn- 
ly, do you say that now, upon the very verge of death ? 
But tell me where they are. You know that Sikes is 
dead, that Monks has confessed, that there is no hope of 
any further gain. Where are those papers? ” 

Oliver,” cried Fagin, beckoning to him. Here, 
here! Let me whisper to you.” 

I am not afraid,” said Oliver in a low voice, as he 
relinquished Mr. Brownlow’s hand. 

The papers,” said Fagin, drawing Oliver toward 
him, are in a canvas bag, in a hole a little way up the 
chimney in the top front room. I want to talk to you, 
my dear. I want to talk to you.” 


344 


THE STORY OP OLIVER TWIST. 


Yes, yes/' returned Oliver. '' Let me say a prayer. 
Do! Let me say one prayer. Say only one upon your 
knees with me, and we will talk till morning." 

Outside, outside," replied Fagin, pushing the hoy 
before him toward the door, and looking vacantly over 
his head. '' Say Fve gone to sleep — they'll believe you. 
Y^ou can get me out if you take me so. JSTow then, now 
then! " 

^^Oh! God forgive this wretched man!" cried the 
boy, with a burst of tears. 

''That's right, that's right," said Fagin. "That'll 
help us on. This door first. If I shake and tremble as we 
pass the gallows, don't you mind, but hurry on. Yow, 
now, now! " 

"Have you nothing else to ask him, sir?" inquired 
the turnkey. 

" Yo other question," replied Mr. Brownlow. " If 
I hoped we could recall him to a sense of his posi- 
tion " 

" Yothing will do that, sir," replied the man, shaking 
his head. " You had better leave him." 

The door of the cell opened, and the attendants re- 
turned. 

" Press on, press on ! " cried Fagin. " Softly, but not 
so slow. Faster, faster! " 

The men laid hands upon him, and, disengaging 
Oliver from his grasp, held him back. He struggled with 
the power of desperation for an instant, and then sent 
up cry upon cry that penetrated even those massive 
walls, and rang in their ears until they reached the open 
yard. 

It was some time before they left the prison. Oliver 
nearly swooned after this frightful scene, and was so 
weak that for an hour or more he had not strength to 
walk. 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


345 


Day was dawning when they again emerged. A 
great multitude had already assembled; everything told 
of life and animation but one dark cluster of objects in 
the center of all — the black stage, the crossbeam, the 
rope, and all the hideous apparatus of death. 


CHAPTEE LI. 


The fortunes of those who have figured in this tale 
are nearly closed. The little that remains to their his- 
torian to relate is told in a few and simple words. 

Before three months had passed Eose Fleming and 
Harry Maylie were married in the village church which 
was henceforth to be the scene of the young clergyman's 
labors; on the same day they entered into possession of 
their new and happy home. 

Mrs. Maylie took up her abode with her son and daugh- 
ter-in-law, to enjoy, during the tranquil remainder of her 
days, the greatest happiness that age and worth can 
know — the contemplation of the happiness of those on 
whom the warmest affections and tenderest cares of a 
well-spent life have been unceasingly bestowed. 

Monks, still bearing the assumed name, retired with 
his portion in a distant part of the 'New World, where, 
having quickly squandered it, he once more fell into his 
old courses, and after undergoing a long confinement for 
some fresh act of fraud and knavery, at length sunk 
under an attack of his old disorder, and died in prison. 

Mr. Brownlow adopted Oliver as his son. Eemoving 
with him and the old housekeeper to within a mile of the 
parsonage house, where his dear friends resided, he 
gratified the only remaining wish of Olivers warm and 
earnest heart, and thus linked together a little society 
346 














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THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


347 


whose condition approached as nearly to one of perfect 
happiness as can ever be known in this changing world. 

Soon after the marriage of the young people the 
worthy doctor returned to Chertsey. Bereft of the pres- 
ence of his old friends, he would have been discon- 
tented, if his disposition had admitted of such a feeling, 
and would have turned quite peevish, if he had known 
how. 

Before his removal he had managed to contract a 
strong friendship for Mr. Grimwig, which that eccentric 
gentleman cordially reciprocated. He is accordingly vis- 
ited by Mr. Grimwig a great many times in the course of 
the year. 

Mr. Hoah Claypole, receiving a free pardon from the 
Crown in consequence of being admitted approver against 
Fagin, and considering his profession not altogether as 
safe a one as he could wish, was, for some little time, 
at a loss for the means of a livelihood not burdened with 
too much work. After some consideration he went into 
business as an informer, in which calling he realized a 
genteel subsistence. His plan is to walk out once a week 
during churchtime, attended by Charlotte, in respect- 
able attire. The lady faints away at the doors of char- 
itable publicans, and the gentleman being accommodated 
with three pennyworth of brandy to restore her, lays 
an information next day, and pockets half the penalty. 
Sometimes Mr. Claypole faints himself, but the result 
is the same. 

Mr. and Mrs. Bumble, deprived of their situations, 
were gradually reduced to great poverty and misery, and 
finally became paupers in that very same workhouse in 
which they had once lorded it over others. Mr. Bumble 
has been heard to say that, in this reverse and degrada- 
tion, he has not even spirits to be thankful for being sepa- 
rated from his wife. 


348 


THE STORY OF OLIVER TWIST. 


As to Mr. Giles and Brittles, they still remain in 
their old posts, although the former is bald and the last 
named quite gray. They sleep at the parsonage, but 
divide their attentions so equally among its inmates, and 
Oliver and Mr. Brownlow, and Mr. Losberne, that to 
this day the villagers have never been able to discover 
to which establishment they properly belong. 

Master Charles Bates, appalled by Sikes’s crime, fell 
into a train of reflection whether an honest life was not, 
after all, the best. 

Arriving at the conclusion that it certainly was, he 
turned his back upon the scenes of the past; and from 
being a farmer’s drudge and a carrier’s lad, he is now 
the merriest young grazier in all Northamptonshire. 

And now the hand that traces these words falters as 
it approaches conclusion of its task, and would weave, 
for a little longer space, the thread of these adventures. 

Within the altar of the old village church there stands 
a white marble tablet, which bears as yet but one word 
— Agnes.” There is no coffin in that tomb; and may it 
be many years before another name is placed above it! 
But if the spirits of the dead ever come back to earth to 
visit spots hallowed by the love — the love beyond the 
grave — of those whom they knew in life, I believe that 
the shade of Agnes sometimes hovers round that solemn 
nook. * 


THE END. 


D. APPLETON AND COMPANY’S PUBLICATIONS. 


BY S. R. CROCKETT. 

Uniform edition. Each, lamo, cloth, $1.50. 

ADS’ LOVE. Illustrated. 

In this fresh and charming story, which in some respects recalls 
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^LEG KELLY, ARAB OF THE CLTY, His 

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In no one of his books does Mr. Crockett give us a brighter or more graphic 
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D. APPLETON & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS. 



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